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PROGRESSIVE EDUCATION. 



PROGRESSIVE 



EDUCATION 



COMMENCING WITH THE INFANT 



BY MADAME KECKER DE SAUSSURE 



AVrr 



TRANSLATED FROM THE FRENCH : 

WITH 

NOTES AND AN APPENDIX 

BY 
MRS. WILLARD AND MRS. PHELPS. 



BOSTON: 

WILLIAM, D. TICKNOR, 

1835. 






Entered according to an Act of Congress, in the year 1835, 

By WlLTJAM D. TiCKNOR, 

In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of Massachusetts. 



BOSTON: 

WILLIAM A. HALL & COMPANY, 
122, Washington-Street. 



CONTENTS 



Page 
Preface. By Mrs. Willard, . . . . 7 

Preface. By the Author, - - - - - 13 

Introduction, ------ 23 



BOOK I. 

Chapter I. The Design of Education, - - - 43 

" II. Perfection should be aimed at, - - 58 

" III. The perfection of our nature considered, - 69 

" IV. Influence of character in strengthening the will, 81 

" V. Impulses of the will and the influence of reason, 92 
" VI. Influence of religious character in strengthening 

the will, - - - - 102 



BOOK II. 

Means of perfecting Education, - - 115 

Birth, and the first months, - - 129 

Dispositions to be cultivated the first year, - 145 

Commencement of the second year, - 159 

Influence of sympathy and example, - - 170 

Means by which children acquire language, 183 

1* 



Chaptei 


r I. 




II. 




III. 




IV. 




V. 




VI. 



CONTENTS. 



BOOK III. 



Chapt 


er I. 


u 


II. 


(( 


III. 


ii 


IV. 


il 


V. 


u 


VI. 


u 


VII. 


u 


VIII. 


u 


IX. 



Page 

Of the habits at two years old, - - 200 

Habit of obedience, . . . 207 

Third year— Activity, - - - 221 

Progress during the third year, - - 229 

Of the imagination at three years old, - 242 

Of the conscience before four years old, - 255 

Advantages of early development of religious 

character, . _ . . 269 

Religious education of young children, - 282 

Religious worship, - - - - 295 



APPENDIX. 

Observations upon an infant during its first year. By a 

mother, ------ 323 

The first three months, ----- 334 

The infant at six months, ----- 332 

The child at nine months, - - - . 336 

From nine to twelve months, . . . . 340 

The child at a year old, ----- 345 



PREFACE. 



BY MRS. WILLARD, 



In giving to the young mothers of my country a 
translation of this excellent work of Madame Necker 
de Saussure, I am happy to make an offering which 
will prove highly useful to such as are desirous of 
qualifying themselves for the wise and judicious fulfil- 
ment of their maternal duties. I have often been told, 
by my former pupils, who are now mothers, that they 
found it very difficult to satisfy their own minds with 
respect to the best mode of managing their little chil- 
dren ; and an expression of my opinion on the subject 
has been frequently requested. I rejoice that infant 
education has at length been investigated by one so 
competent to do it justice as the author of this volume. 

In my search after the best works on education, 
while in France, I owe much to the aid of Madame 
Belloc ; from her I received this work ; on examining 
it, I found it to be the very book so much needed by 
the mother and the Infant School teacher. 

Madame Necker de Saussure is the sister-in-law of 
Madame de Stael, and was her intimate friend and 



8 PREFACE. 

biographer. The two de Saussures, her father and 
brother, are identified with the history of Uterature 
and science. No woman of the age has enjoyed more 
distinguished advantages for intellectual improvement 
than she whose fortune it was to bear a near and inti- 
mate relation to so many gifted individuals ; and she 
has consecrated the rich treasures of her mind to 
a noble object. Who that would be instrumental in 
doing good to the world, would not choose rather to 
be the author of her Progressive Education, than of the 
brilliant, but seductive Corinne, of Madame de Stael, 
notwithstanding the latter has been said to be " tlie 
greatest work of tliejirst female writer of all ages and 
countries 1 " Scarcely her inferior in vigor of intellect, 
original genius, or acquired talents, Madame de Saus- 
sure possesses, what was wanting in the character of 
her distinguished friend, fervent and devoted piety. 
She is not a speculative believer, but a vital, experi- 
mental Christian. Hence, with the humility of her 
divine Master, she has said, " Suffer the little children 
to come unto me." 

With a great deal of nature and simplicity, there is 
in this work much profound thought and argument. 
Mothers, in order to profit by it, must be educated : it 
is not written for the ignorant and uncultivated ; such 
could neither comprehend its reasoning, nor profit much 
by its precepts. But, at the present day, and especially 
in our own country, females are so educated as to be 
capable of appreciating works of a high order. 

The views of Madame de Saussure upon the facul- 
ties of the mind, more especially in relation to the in- 



PREFACE. 



dependent agencies of the will, will be recognized by 
my pupils as coinciding with my own sentiments, so 
often expressed in my lectures on Mental Philosophy. 
I hoped to have found leisure for adding to the work 
more of my own reflections, and the results of my ex- 
perience. Mrs. Phelps, who has so long aided me in the 
objects to wliich I am devoted, has contributed towards 
the Notes in the body of the work ; — they may be con- 
sidered'as generally expressive of ideas which we hold 
in common upon the subjects to wiiich they relate. 

The Appendix, containing a Mother's observations 
upon her infant during its first year, will, I think, 
prove of much practical utility to young mothers. 
Having, myself witnessed tlie results of the system of 
management there described, in the patience, docility, 
and intelligence of the child who was the subject of it, 
I am enabled to bear my testimony in its favor. 

Nothing can be more pleasing to the true friend 
of woman, than the sight of a well-educated female 
bringing all her faculties into exercise in the perform- 
ance of the appropriate duties of her sex, as mistress 
of a household, as a wife and mother. To prepare the 
rising generation of women for these important duties, 
and to bring forward teachers to aid me in this, has 
been the grand object of my life. When I see pow- 
erful minds among my own sex rising up in support of 
the same object, I feel my heart encouraged and my 
hands strengthened to persevere. That the women of 
our own country are taking a higher rank in the 
scale of rational beings, is apparent, in the fact that 



iO PREFACE. 

frivolous conversation and pursuits are giving place 
to such as are suggested by intelligence, benevolence 

and piety. 



]>foTE. — The Editors hope to present the public, ere 
long, with the remaining portion of Madame de Saus- 
sure's Progressive Education ; and should she pursue 
the plan intimated in the following extract, we shall 
lose no time in giving to our country, a translation of 
the views of this able and accomplished author upon 
Female Education. 

Extract of a letter from Madame Necker de Saus- 
sure to Mrs. Willard ;— dated Geneva, July 21, 1834. 
(Translated from the French.) 

•• Permit me to express, Madam, how much I am delighted 
that my book has received the approbation of yourself and 
your sister, Mrs. Phelps, so far as to induce you to translate 
it. Your own works, wdiich I have had the happiness to 
read, show to what enlightened judges mine has been sub- 
mitted. In my second volume, as I have treated of a greater 
number of subjects than in the first, and discussed more 
contested points, the chance is greater that it may not, in 
all respects, accord with your ideas ; but my sentiments in 
general so far harmonize with yours, that I can at least 
depend upon your indulgence. 

'' Since my last volume of Progressive Education was 
written, 1 have reflected much upon the education of w^omen, 
and even began a treatise upon the subject; you may 
judge, therefore, how precious to me is this communication 
with you. Your experience is much more extensive than my 
own, w^hich has been confined to private education. Bui 
the difficulty of writing on this subject alarms me ; opinions 



PREFACE. 11 

upon the destination of women diverge so far, and are so 
much under the influence of locality, that one can scarcely 
hope to produce a general impression, at least if the attempt 
be made to go beyond a mere common-place morality. It 
is very singular, that with sentiments essentially the same, 
and sustaining the common relations of Avife and mother, 
women of different countries, and in different ranks, so little 
understand each other. The slightest diversity in custom, 
or received forms, renders them strangers to each other's 
hearts. 

" We cannot even treat of the defects of our sex, without 
seeming unjust to the women of some countries, and ap- 
pearing to point out those of others ; — thus, our defects are 
not those of the French: if we go into Germany and Eng- 
land, we shall find those from which we are free, but at 
the same time qualities in which we are deficient. With 
us, a woman shines by prudence and an extreme circum- 
spection ; these entitle her to consideration, more than 
brilliancy of mind. Americans might find me too timid in 
my views of female education; while, at home, it might be 
thought I had gone too far ; not that instruction, among us, 
is regarded Avith indifference, but it is desired only on con- 
dition that it produce no movement of the soul that may 
effect any change in real life. In France, tout pj^is cle 
nous, the desire to emancipate women has become disor- 
derly, striking at the root of all social institutions, and 
threatening the most sacred ties. At Lyons, is published 
a journal, edited by females, themselves, in Avhich the prin- 
ciples are manifestly those of St. Simonisme. 

" Mr. Martin has recently published a work entitled 
'Education of Mothers.' — At first I supposed my labor 
performed ; but though I find some interesting pages in 
the book, and that he requires of mothers many fine sen- 
timents, still there are no definite counsels for their 
guidance. — Vague in religion as false in philosophy, there 
only remains to the reader the pleasure of having perused 
some very fine phrases. 



12 PREFACE. 

" With much more satisfaction I have examined two 
volumes of the American Annals of Education, edited by- 
Mr. Woodbridge. In this work I have found excellent ad- 
vice upon the religious education of women, upon the care 
of health, and the development of the faculties. 

" There are treasures in the soul of woman which yet 
remain to be explored and brought forward. This must be 
the work of an early, a thorough, and a judicious educa- 
tion." 



PREFACE. 



Numerous examples authorize, at the present day, 
the successive publication of different volumes of a 
work. This course seems naturally indicated, when 
one of the parts forms a whole by itself, as is the 
case in the present work : an important subject, that 
of the moral education of ^arly infancy, is here found, 
not exhausted, indeed, but considered as fully as Jt 
seemed to require. 

In a work which has for its object the progressive 
education of the whole life, this volume may be con- 
sidered under a double aspect : it is a first part, 
destined to be soon succeeded by a second, which 
will complete what relates to infancy — and it is at the 
same time a separate essay ; it is the study of a period 
of human existence, short, indeed, it is true, but per- 
fectly distinct from every other, and replete with facts 
interesting to the observer. 

There exists, indeed, between this period, and the 
portion of life which follows it, a line of demarcation 
not arbitrarily drawn, but which belongs to the immu- 
table and necessary order of the development of the 
2 



14 PREFACE. 

individual. The child at the age of five years pos- 
sesses all the intellectual faculties bestowed upon man : 
some of these faculties, yet weak and little accustom- 
ed to exercise, are frequently called into action by the 
most frivolous motives ; and although expressed, as 
yet, only by insignificant actions, they are still mani- 
fested, and the child makes use of them in his own 
manner. 

Before the age of four years, on the contrary, the 
child is a different being ; it is destitute of reflection, 
one of the essential elements of human reason. Its 
mind, already very active, does not consider itself, and 
is unconscious of its own operations. Moreover, the 
instincts of the first age are yet with him in full vigor : 
its moral and physical nature are still composed, in a 
great degree, of the faculties bestowed upon the first 
period of life for a temporary and special object — en- 
dowments which we do not discover in after life. 
Thus, dispositions which partake of the mysterious na- 
ture of instinct, such as sympathy, and the tendency 
to imitation, soon cease to be noticed, either because 
they are, in truth, much diminished, or because the 
new development of the faculties, with which we are 
better acquainted, attracts our whole attention. Final- 
ly, when the child begins to use language, it is only as 
a means of external communication ; his thoughts do 
not, without effort, flow in words, and he lives the 
same life of sensations and images, of desires and im- 
pressions, as that of animals, and newly-born infants. 
From this mode of existence, so different from ours, 
we infer that infancy is the only age which is clearly 
separated from the periods which follow it, these being 
connected to each other by inseparable gradations. 



PREFACE. 15 

I do not mean to be understood that the peculiarities 
of the infant mind do not disappear gradually. The 
period from five to twelve years is an interval of transi- 
tion, during which the instincts of the child become 
feeble in proportion as the faculties of the man in- 
crease. But these instincts exist in the mind of the 
individual, at a period when it is difficult to discover 
them. If, then, we neglect to study them when they 
alone prevail, we shall not distinguish them in a more 
complicated existence. One of the elements of the 
moral constitution of the pupil will always be unknown 
by us, if we have not observed the child in the first pe- 
riod of its existence. 

Other considerations, still more weighty, will be join- 
ed to these, if we can be convinced of two truths ; the 
one, that from the conditions imposed upon the soul at 
its first entrance into this world, the faculties which de- 
cide the formation of the character are those which are 
first manifested in the individual ; the other, that edu- 
cation possesses an immense influence over the devel- 
opment of these faculties. This last truth is placed 
beyond a doubt by the schools recently established for 
children from the age of two to six years. In these we 
can judge of the happy effects that the principles by 
which I have been guided, produce in application. 
And if, on the one hand, the happy results which these 
institutions present, give the sanction of a more extend- 
ed experience to the conclusions which I have deduced 
from facts observed in a narrow circle, — I venture to 
flatter myself, on the other hand, that these deductions 
will serve to explain, in a rational manner, the success 
of the method employed in these schools. 



16 PREFACE. 

This hope is not entirely unfounded, at least as 
respects Geneva, where infant schools are at present 
forming. The remembrance of M. de Saussure is yet 
so vivid in his country, it is so well known that his zeal 
for public instruction here was equal to that displayed 
in his labors as a physician, that his daughter has 
some reason to hope to be listened to, when she 
speaks of education. This is one motive which has 
led me to hasten the publication of a volume which 
may, at this time, prove of important utility at Ge- 
neva. 

In an introduction containing the plan of this whole 
work, I shall give some account of the views, by 
which, in its progress, I have successively been influ- 
enced. 

While I undertook to trace the moral history of 
life, in pointing out, as far as I was able, the means 
of improvement which are adapted to its different ages, 
I designed to pass rapidly over the years of infancy. 

Impressed with the great idea that our existence 
here is but the prelude to another, that our passage 
through the present world is only an education for 
another, I would view this idea in its various applica- 
tions. Relying upon these words of Scripture, — ' All 
things shall work together for good to those who love 
God,' my design was to show that he who will avail 
himself of divine assistance, finds in every event, in 
the diversified interests which contribute to unfold our 
various moral faculties, the means of advancing towards 
his true destination. Without presuming too much 
upon the effect of my work, I have hoped to ben- 
efit myself, to find, in lofty thoughts, a support, a refuge 



PREFACE. 17 

and consolation ; to derive some advantage from the- 
silent teachings of time, and to recommence, by my 
remembrances, the work which my life has thus far 
too little promoted. 

At the first, rny attention has been directed more to 
the results of life, than to that preparation for life itself, 
which should occupy the commencement of it; and the 
education of infancy was presented to me as a subject 
necessary, from rny plan, to be noticed, but already 
exhausted by the distinguished writers who have devo- 
ted their thoughts to this subject. - 

But in examining this subject more closely, I have 
found much that is new, especially with regard to the 
first years of life. Philosophers have almost entirely 
disregarded very young children : instructers by pro- 
fession do not often have them under their care ; and 
when they are with them, they too frequently regard 
the future pupil as mere brute matter, destined to re- 
ceive its value from them. They consider him an 
ignorant being, not thinking that, in order to arrive at 
the point where he is susceptible of rational instruction, 
the mental constitution of the child must be entirely dif- 
ferent from that of man. 

Females, on the other hand, quick to seize upon the 
slightest indications, and to comprehend the least in- 
tentions of children, are often satisfied with understand- 
ing them by sympathy. Their feeling is directed im- 
mediately to practical utility ; and when a ready dis- 
cernment has decided what will conduce to this, they 
consider it of little importance to arrive at general re- 
sults. I was myself for a long time deeply occupied 
with education; but I had studied my children without 
2^ 



18 PREFACE. 

feeling that I was investigating the general principles of 
infant minds : all my observations seemed confined to 
the individual. The different systems of which I had ac- 
quired a knowledge not being able to satisfy me, I follow- 
ed the guidance of the little experience I had gained, 
and what I believed to be good sense. But as this ex- 
perience became more enlarged, as more leisure afford- 
ed me the opportunity to mature my reflections, I per- 
ceived the effect of general laws, in the uniformity of 
the phenomena presented by infancy. Perhaps, in de- 
scribing them, the charm, attached to the contemplation 
of this age, has led me too far. But, either by the facts 
I have cited, or the conclusions deduced from them, I 
have extended the subject beyond my original inten- 
tion. 

Without abandoning my undertaking, as it is announ- 
ced in the Introduction, I have gradually changed the 
proportions of it. Pressed by time, and by the ad- 
vancement of the age, I have felt the necessity of 
reducing the dimensions of the part which first occu- 
pied most of my attention; and that which was designed 
to have formed two thirds of the work, will be litde 
more than one third. 

The first book is devoted lo the exposition of prin- 
ciples which are applicable to every period of educa- 
tion. Nothing, surely, is more important than for the 
instructor to be fully acquainted with his own views, 
to demand of himself, in the first place, his precise ob- 
ject, since this is the best method of attaining that ob- 
ject. Yet, under these two relations, liow numerous 
are the reflections presented ! What a vast field of 
thought opens before us, at the simple contemplation of 



PREFACE. 19 

that undertaking, so great, and at the same time so 
common — that of educating a child ! Tiie final destina- 
tion of man, the obligations imposed upon him by the 
divine law, and the constitution of the present world, 
with the qualities which may render him capable of 
performing these obligations, become so many objects 
of deep and anxious contemplation. And when we 
consider what education is — that it is designed to in- 
fluence the will, to impress upon the soul characters 
which will remain during life, we discover, not only 
that profound study of the human mind is indispensable 
to the instructor, but that he should be acquainted with 
the order in which the moral faculties are unfolded. It 
is not as an idle speculation, that such a study is pre- 
sented : we see it to be the foundation, and even the 
essence of the art of education. 

It is unnecessary for me to say that 1 have merely 
glanced at these great subjects. Guided by the sublime 
principles of Evangelical morality, I have endeavored 
to avoid all useless discussion ; in applying my princi- 
ples to human life, I have taken some points as agreed 
upon which are yet debated: but to support all my con- 
victions by solid proofs, to resolve all difficulties, and 
remove all objections, would equally have surpassed 
the limits of my subject and of my powers. I have 
not affected philosophic coldness, but have expressed 
the feelings by which I was actuated, without exagger- 
ating them, or indulging unkind expressions towards 
those who differ from me, and especially without allow- 
ing myself, in favor of the best objects, to allege rea- 
sons which seem trivial or doubtful. If I have ventur- 
ed to touch upon lofty themes, it has been because 



20 PREFACE. 

they were inherent to my subject, and have involunta- 
rily commanded my attention ; or they have pursued, 
rather than been sought by me. However the theoretical 
part of my work may be subject to criticism, I hope to 
have presented ideas which may be fruitful, in useful 
applications. 

The second book is devoted to the study of the two 
first years of life — that important period, during 
which education is in a degree directed by vague ideas, 
since the child who does not yet speak cannot aid the 
observer in discovering what passes in his mind. But 
the discerning instinct of mothers, often penetrates the 
obscurity which involves this tender infancy, and fur- 
nishes important observations upon which to found our 
reasonings. 

On the contrary, the period from the age of two to 
four years, the consideration of which occupies the 
third book, is the most instructive season for us. Then 
the new progress of the, child, without having as yet 
changed his moral existence, serves to reveal it to our 
eyes ; we then see the peculiar nature of infancy dis- 
tinctly manifested, at the very period when it is about 
to disappear. The results of the facts relative to the 
soul during this period and the preceding, are consid- 
ered in a separate chapter ; and this concludes the 
history of infancy. 

Hitherto, what has been advanced is only a collec- 
tion of observations, and seems not related to the prin- 
cipal subject of the work, the formation of morality in 
children. But, for the interest of morality itself, I 
have thought it my duty to invite the instructor's atten- 
tion to facts which have been the least regarded. We 



PREFACE. 21 

begin to feel, that to secure the advancementof educa- 
tion, it is necessary to discover the physiological meth- 
od ; or, in other words, to discover the laws of the moral 
development of the individual. But, without pretend- 
ing to understand the essential nature of the soul, we 
may yet study the progress of the intellect from the 
birth of the human being. And, as a being immersed 
in total ignorance can attain a knowledge of the physic- 
al and moral world only by degrees, and in a determin- 
ed order, we very soon discover that this order decides 
the development of the various faculties in the soul of 
the child. It is thus that the examination of facts 
always conducts to an explanation of their consequen- 
ces. 

Another benefit which we shall derive from the study 
of the infant, will be, to teach us more properly to 
estimate the endowments bestowed upon it by Provi- 
dence ; qualities so adapted to its future destiny, that 
a moral constitution in any respect differing from the 
present, would have rendered him less susceptible of 
progress. In viewing him with regard to futurity, we 
see that many of his apparent defects — that even his 
weakness and his imperfect development, are the 
effects of a wise dispensation. He has the perfection 
of an ignorant being, a state the most favorable to be 
instructed ; and he has also the perfection of a depend- 
ent being, wholly unable to help himself, and a wonder- 
ful talent for obtainins; aid of others. He can excite 
in us emotions of goodness, of devotion, and of con- 
stant affection, which we feel for none but him : he 
succeeds in inspiring us with a tender and heart-felt 
pity, and yet amuses and pleases us. Too improvi- 



22 PREFACE. 

dent to be enslaved by bis necessities, be bas tbe 
grace, sometimes tbe pride of independence, and wben 
be bas received every tbing at our band, bis friendsbip 
bas still a disinterested air.* Tbe immediate work of 
God, noble in view of its future destiny, and interesting 
in its present form, tbe infant presents at tbe same time 
a cbarming creation, and a perfect sketcb. 

* Who has not, at times, felt the irresistible power of infancy 
to awaken tenderness and gentle affections ! When tfie heart 
is sad, or seared by disappointment, it seems insensible to any 
emotions but of the most gloomy and despairing kind. Now 
like a beam of light glancing athwart the darkness of midnight, 
does an infant's smile kindle up an involuntary cheerfulness, and 
provoke the sternest features to return an answering expression. 
The widowed mother, as she clasps her babe to her bosom, feels 
the apathy of grief to be succeeded bj' a softened emotion, and 
as she raises her supplications to the Father of the fatherless, is 
inspired with the wish to live for her child, and the resolution to 
nerve herself, for his sake, to encounter the storms of life, in a 
cold and unfeeling world, where there are few to care for those 
V/ho need to be cared for. [Ed ] 



INTRODUCTION 



Mr design is to represent the progress of life, and 
the feelings which animate us at every period of it ; I 
wish to describe the changes which time produces in 
us ; but this is not my only object. As the noblest 
aim of the study of the human heart is to soften it, I 
desire to seek the means of rendering our dispositions 
more exalted and more holy, more favorable to the 
tranquillity of the soul, and the display of its activity. 

It is the history of the soul, especially, that I propose 
to trace ; a history less different in various individuals 
than that of their external condition, but of much great- 
er importance. The changes which our souls experi- 
ence, have for us the nature of real events. Upon the 
state of the heart, depends not only our own happiness, 
but also the train of events that the desire of gratifying 
our inclinations may produce. The most unforeseen 
determinations, are not to be ascribed to chance ; for 
they have been preceded by desire.* Thus, by indulg- 

* This is a most important suggestion, and ought to be im- 
pressed with great care upon the minds of every young person, 



24 INTRODUCTION. 

ing in certain thoughts, we unconsciously weave the 
web of our futuie destiny. The succession of our 
feelings, is the confused sketch of the drama which is 
" afterwards represented in our conduct. 

All, then, is education in human life. Each year of 
our existence is the consequence of years that precede 
it, and the preparation for those which follow ; each 
age has a task to perform for itself, and another in re- 
lation to that which succeeds it. And if, in proportion 
as we advance in life, the perspective of life itself 
seems to narrow before us — if it seems less necessary 
to prepare for a career always diminishing, there is a 
point of view the reverse of that. There is an interest 
which increases with years. The less the time re- 
maining to us to live, the more valuable does each mo- 
ment become, in the view of the Christian. He who 
aims to win the prize of the race feels his courage and 
hope redouble as he approaches the goal. 

Infancy, indeed, differs from other ages, in many 
respects. There is a time of weakness, and inexperi- 
ence, when the newly-created soul acquires its first no- 
tions of things, and is brought into intercourse with an 



particularly females. To the susceptibility of their hearts, and 
an unrestrained license of imagination, are to be ascribed much 
of the misery which many of our sex endure. Surrounded by 
attentive friends, watched over by parental tenderness, and en- 
joying all the refinements and luxuries which wealth can pur- 
chase, many a female has been left to muse in secret over a hope- 
less passion, which might have been checked in its beginning — 
or has been induced to marry a man in whom neither moral or in- 
tellectual endowments made up the want of worldly goods. In 
poverty and degradation, she must realize that by indulging in 
certain thoughts, she did unconsciously tceave the web of her deS' 
tiny. [En.] 



INTRODUCTION. 25 

unknown world ; it then sustains no responsibility ; the 
care of its education is not confided to itself : but, if 
the work of education consists in the development of 
the faculties, we cannot assign to it any definite period. 
The mind is always capable of being enlarged, and the 
heart of being softened ; even religious feeling, the 
most elevated of our sentiments, has a tendency to in- 
crease, by exercise. All the springs which act up- 
on the child, have power with the man ; outwardly, 
circumstances and events ; inwardly, those feelings 
which prompt us to love and to hate, to imitate, to 
hope and fear, exert a continual influence upon our 
souls. How then can we assign any boundaries to the 
extent of education ? The character and the mind are 
constantly receiving modifications ; this is what renders 
education always possible ; not only is it possible, but 
unavoidable : some .species of it is incessantly active : 
to know if we can direct it, is the only doubtful ques- 
tion. 

The development of the character does not, It is 
true, depend entirely either upon the will of instructors 
in infancy, or upon that o( the pupil at a more ad- 
vanced age ; but does it follow from this that these wills 
have no power ? Because we have not every thing at 
our disposal, does it follow that we can influence no- 
thing ? Many causes, it is true, act without our know- 
ledge, and against our wishes ; but there are regular 
and beneficial influences which are at our command. 
It is because there is at all periods an accidental educa- 
tion, that it is necessary to balance the effects of it by 
one which has been premeditated. 

All the power given to man in education, depends 
3 



26 INTRODUCTION. 

upon the exercise of his will.* This power is, in my 
opinion, great ; and it is for this alone that man will 
always be responsible. The transient influence of 
instructors should establish the durable empire of con- 
science, and give a permanent direction to what is 
most variable with the child, and remains fluctuating 
with man — the will. If, then, there exists a source, 
where the will may become invigorated, whence it can 
derive the assistance necessary to sustain, enlighten, 
and direct it, and to peanimate it when sinking into ap- 
athy, it would seem that the great object of education 
is to render the access to this more easy to the human 
being in the successive periods of his life. 

After having described the first years of life, when 



* There is a vulgar opinion prevailing among some parents', 
that a child's ' will must be broken, ' as the expression is ; but it 
should be understood that the icil I, resolution, or Jlrjnness of pur- 
pose, all of which are nearly synonymous terms, is in fact the very 
stamina of the mind. It is indeed necessary that a child should 
very early be taught obedience, and to know that its own wishes 
are not always to be gratified. For Uiis end, should he prove re- 
fractory, punishment of some kind should be resorted to, until he 
is made to submit to authorit}^ Yet in doing this, a very young 
child may be made to understand, by an affectionate, though de- 
cided manner, tiiat his own good only is intended; and thus, 
though his spirit may be subdued, it will remain unbroken. It 
js painful to think ot the manner in which some parents and 
teachers govern the young and tender minds committed to their 
fostering care. Insult and ignominy are heaped upon the de- 
fenceless being, as ungovernable passion or mistaken views of 
discipline may prompt, and either a sullen obsUnacy, a morbid 
melancholy, or a servile abjectness of spirit, takes the place of that 
ingenuous frankness, that playfulness of disposition and noble 
independence which are so lovely and interesting in the young, 
and which are far from being incompatible with a character sub- 
mitted to a judicious discipline. [Ed.] 



INTRODUCTION. 27 

education, with some slight differences, is the same for 
all children, I shall revert to the peculiar character 
which should be given to the early education of fe- 
males. Indeed, it will be their education that I shall 
principally consider in the whole course of the work. 
I can more easily speak of them, both because I know 
them better, and because the contemplation of their 
destiny is better suited to my design. The domestic 
relations hold a more important place in their existence; 
and hence they are more subject to the influence of nat- 
ural events. As they embrace no particular profession 
— as they are neither merchants, soldiers, or magis- 
trates, the natural dispositions are more apparent in 
them;, they are daughters, wives, and mothers, more 
than men are sons, fathers or husbands. Observe the 
young female, desirous of rendering herself lovely, — 
she who is on the eve of marriage — the wife, jealous 
of her husband's affections — the mother, solicitous for 
her children — and you will find the same sentiments in- 
fluencing the conduct, and acting upon the heart, from 
Lapland to Peru, from the slave to the princess. The 
difference of age are also more marked in females. A 
man who has embraced a particular profession, goes 
on, during his whole life, through nearly the same rou- 
tine, and the uniformity of his actions affects also the 
state of his feelings. All the interests of woman, on 
the contrary, change with years ; her position in socie- 
ty changes also, and it becomes more easy to mark the 
influence of time upon her life. 

Another reason which leads me to address myself to 
females, is because they will listen to what I say. 
Having no public profession, they usually mark outj 



28 INTRODUCTION. 

more or less judiciously, a sort of moral career ; each 
one conceives a certain ideal excellence, which she 
seeks to reach, and by which she directs her course. 
Her thoughts and opinions are little concealed. If she 
is ignorant of many things, she at least does not boast 
of knowing every thing ; and the want of positive 
knowledge is more than compensated by the desire of 
acquiring it. The education of her children which de- 
volves upon her, leads her to aim at what is best for 
them and for herself: all advice upon this sacred sub- 
ject is gratefully received ; and the observations that 
she is continually making, as a mother, increase her 
taste for mental analysis. 

But, if I more.particularly address myself to_ women, 
I would not be thought to do it in an exclusive manner. 
A religious point of view renders the condition of the 
heart important also with men. As Christians, the do- 
mestic relations become to them of great importance : 
increase of years gives to life a new character of grav- 
ity ; and the great idea of a future existence, causes 
the distinctions of wealth and rank to vanish. 

The tendency of this work will, I trust, be religious : 
it is not a book of mere amusement, since the observa- 
tion of life, such as it is in reality, is presented here ; 
and the spirit of Christianity, it is hoped, pervades it, 
although its doctrine be not frequently alluded to. Not, 
however, that I regard the doctrine as indifferent. If 
the devotion of the heart is of the first importance, the 
religion of it is not the least essentially founded upon a 
belief, and the nature of this belief influences that of 
devotion itself, and of a multitude of other opinions. 
But, sincerely attached to Christianity as our illustrious 



INTRODUCTION. 29 

reformers* have viewed it, I consider here its effects, 
rather than their cause. I appeal to that feeling which 
ought to be common among Christians, to that bound- 
less charitv which esteems the n^me of tolerance to- 
wards brethren; implying, as it does, the existence of 
something wrong to be tolerated, as weak, and even 
injurious : I appeal to that charity, the exercise of 
whichj though sometimes difficult, is indispensably ne- 
cessary, and which consists in allowing to all the right 
which we claim, to think and judge for themselves. 

This varied work, the author has not the vanity to 
suppose will, in a religious point of view, prove in- 
structive to persons eminent for their piety. These 
seem to me too elevated to need assistance from me. 
They have access to a higher source than human coun- 
sel ; and even of human counsel, of a kind better than 
my book can give. I address myself especially to a 
class unhappily much more numerous ; to those who, 
without being ranked among the adversaries of religion, 
do not comprehend the Christian language, who do not 
read the holy Scriptures, f or those books which give a 

* The circumstance of Madame De Sausure's belonging 
to the Protestant Church, renders the tone of her work more 
in unison with the feelings of most Christians among us than it 
probably would otherwise have been. It is true that the pioiis 
and amiable Fenelon wrote much that is delightful to the heart 
of the Christian, much that may seem to improve the female sexj 
but still there is interwoven with his sentiments something of 
that peculiar mysticism which belongs to the Romish church, 
and in his advice to young women, with a low estimate of female 
abilities, appears also a superstitious adherence to the contracted 
tenets of his church. [Ed.] 

t It must be here recollected by (he reader that the author 
writes in a country where infidelity, and the influence of the 

3* 



30 INTRODUCTION. 

faithful interpretation of them. Ignorant as they are 
of the most important resources, the difficuhy is to 
make them feel their need of them. We scarcely 



Romish Church have both tended to the disuse of the Scriptures. 
It is scarcely possible for us to realize the ignorance of the Word 
of God which prevails in many parts of tliose countries denom- 
inated Christian; thick darkness, with respect to every thing 
spiritual, broods over the souls of millions who are within the 
very sound of the gospel, and superstition and scepticism seem to 
unite to hold the soul in bondage. Take for example one instance 
among thousands ; a girl of eighteen, who has recently arrived 
in this country, from Catholic Ireland ; quick in her conceptions, 
intelligent in every thing which is placed under her observation, 
she is wholly ignorant of all which the Bible teaches, except in 
those particulars where her priest has thought proper to enlighten 
her, in order to secure his own influence. In attempting to 
teach her to read, the word Noah occurred. She was asked who 
Noah was ; the answer was she did not know. — ' Have you never 
heard of the flood by which God once destroyed the earth ? ' She 
had not — ' Did you never go to school in your own country .'' ' 
' I did not, but I learned a little to read of a good Protestant lady, 
who told me to come to her house ; — she had a school for the 
poor children of the place, and wished me to go to it. I went to 
the priest and on my knees, asked him to permit me to go to this 
school of Lady C — ; he said, No, I must not be taught by any but 
himself, and that it was sinful for nie to learn, especially from the 
Protestants.' 

The same girl was for some time afraid to attend family prayers, 
because her priest had told her that there was no religion out of 
her own church, and that heretics and all who had any thing to 
do with them, would be eternally miserable. She also suffered 
much dejection because she had not access to a priest to whom 
she might confess ; for, according to their faith, Roman Catholics 
can only hope for forgiveness and favor from God, through the 
intercessions of their priests; of course, when cut off from inter- 
course with them, their souls are exposed to eternal perdition. How 
blessed is that religion which teaches us that none can forgive 
sins, but God only, and that his ear is ever open to the cry of the 
penitent ! [Ed.] 



INTRODUCTION. 31 

know how to effect this ; for, so long as we are not able 
to give them, in the only language which they under- 
stand, a taste for divine truths, they will be like those 
barbarous people who never emerge from their condi- 
tion, because they do not conceive themselves to be 
deficient. 

But I chiefly address myself to those whom I regard 
more immediately as my equals ; I speak to those who 
are impressed with the truth, the beauty, and primary 
importance of Christianity, but wish to connect it more 
closely with the various objects of interest, which we 
cannot, and ought not to banish from human existence. 
These, feel that religion is every thing, or nothing; 
that if it does not become an absorbing principle, it is 
an empty profession; but they find a difficulty in making 
universal application of such a principle, so numerous 
are the objects in this world, which, in the course of 
life, have a lawful, and even a useful place, and yet 
seem foreign to religion.* The education of the heart 
may present the means of doing this, since, considered 
with regard to religious perfection, there is no action 
or occupation indifferent ; every thing is injurious or 
useful, every thing retards or favors our progress. We 

How often does the heart of the true Christian sink, in view 
of the trivial concerns which demand his attention, and even 
duties which seem to have a deadening influence upon his piety ! 
but such is the state in which our Heavenly Father has been 
pleased to place man, for the very purpose of trying him. If eve- 
ry thing incited him to piety, where would be the Christian's 
warfare .'' But the real spirit of religion inwrought in the soul 
will not only carry us safely through all temptations, but turn 
them into occasions for spiritual improvement and growth in 
grace. [Ed.] 



32 INTRODUCTION. 

should observe the effect of objects upon us, instead of 
considering them as they are in themselves; and, re- 
pelling every thing which removes us from God, we 
should seek to approach him by every pure and eleva- 
ted means. 

Having spoken of the design of this work, I proceed 
to stale its plan. 

It treats of premeditated* education ; that is to say, 
the education which aims to take advantage of the in- 
fluence of men and things, for the perfecting of the in- 
dividual. This education should continue during the 
whole life, and only change its agent : although this 
may be different, the work itself remains the same, and, 
from birth to death, there is always a subject to be per- 
fected. 

Considered in this light, life is naturally divided into 
three periods. 

During the first, which embraces the period of infan- 
cy, education is directed by minds superior to those of 
the individual who is to be acted upon. 

During the second, which includes the period of ad- 
olescence or youth, and that portion of it, which the 
law subjects to parental authority, the pupil should more 
and more aid in his own education. 

Finally, during the third period, the individual hav- 
ing become the arbiter of his own destiny, is himself 
called to labor for his own perfection. 

The first of these divisions of human life, is that 

*The expression ' premeditated education' seems rather foreign 
to our idiom, and yet when something the opposite of accidental 
education is meant, as is here the case, it is difficult to substitute 
a better. [Ed.] 



INTRODUCTION. 33 

where a writer on the subject finds his course the most 
distinctly traced. In considering infancy, he cannot do 
otherwise, than to address himself to the instructors 
who have undertaken the direction of it ; and accord- 
ingly education, properly speaking, or the cares of which 
children are the object, become the subject of which he 
should treat. But this subject would be too vast, 
either for my plan, or my abilities, should I attempt to 
consider it in its whole extent. Obliged to limit my- 
self, it will chiefly be the formation of the character 
which I shall principally consider. I shall not dilate 
upon methods of teaching, but in the general views 
upon the development of the mind which I shall have 
occasion to offer, shall especially consider the moral ef- 
fect of the various occupations and different studies 
which are commonly pursued.* 

Yet the rules which I have imposed upon myself in 
this work, required, from the commencement, an inves- 
tigation of the human heart more profound than that of 
which infancy has heretofore been the object. Books 
upon education ordinarily contain the history of the 
thoughts and experiments of the instructor relatively to 
his pupil, rather than the history of the pupil himself, 
and of what passes in his mind. The latter is precisely 
what I have endeavored to discover. After having, in 
some general considerations, indicated the views vvhich 
the instructor ought to take on the subject of his duties, 
I devote my attention to the child ; — I seek to know 



* The author here refers more particularly to what she designs 
to do in her future volumes on progressive education, than in this, 
which is devoted to a consideration of the first years of life. [Ed.] 



34 INTRODUCTION. 

his feelings during the entire period when an imperious 
necessity subjects him to our power ; and this examin- 
ation leads me to infer that the majority of the im- 
pressions attributed to caprice and unreasonableness, 
in infancy, have a higher origin. The conditions to 
which the soul is subjected upon its entrance into this 
world, furnish, 1 think, a sufficient explanation for 
many feelings which infants experience; and I also re- 
cognize in them the effect of a dispensation eminently 
favorable to the development of the noblest faculties. 
I then attempt to describe the moral constitution of the 
child at different ages, and deduce the practical results 
which these observations clearly present. This order, 
the most natural of all, is not however the only one 
which I have observed. Certain dispositions should 
be cultivated before others, either because they are fu- 
gitive, or because they may facilitate the whole work of 
education. Principles must be established before con- 
sequences are deduced from them. There is then a 
moral and logical connexion, independent of the order 
of facts, but not less essential to follow. 

After observation and its consequences, there will 
generally follow the exposition of a truth which seems 
particularly applicable to the age I am considering. 
When the changes produced by years shall lead to 
corresponding changes in the consequences of this truth, 
I shall present it under a new aspect. Thus we shall 
see the same principles differently developed in the suc- 
cessive periods of education. 

This blending of observations, of theory and the ap- 
plication of their results to infancy, presents great diffi- 
culties in execution. Arising from it, are too frequent 



INTRODUCTION. 35 

and strong contrasts, and too sudden transitions. Noth- 
ing is apparently so frivolous and trifling, as details con- 
cerning little children, as the whole mass of facts pre- 
sented by that age ; nothing, on the contrary, is so great, 
so difficult, or so obscure, as the study of the faculties 
of the soul. Yet how can we separate these two ele- 
ments of education? Shall we attach sufficient impor- 
tance to the form, often very insignificant, under which 
certain, faculties are presented in the child, if we do not 
consider them in relation to their future importance? 
Should we fail of seeing the future in the present ; — 
the ripened wheat, in the blade of grass ? Should we 
not even keep in view the point from which we set 
out, and that to which we would attain, infancy and 
manhood ? If the apparent changes of tone and of ob- 
ject seem, in a literary point of view, less striking than 
a diiterent method, this must not tempt to deviate from 
what I consider essential to the subject, and most im- 
poilantto consider. Perhaps with a superior tact I 
should have avoided these dissonances ; but to neglect 
to say things which I believe useful, I consider a great- 
er wrong than to state them in an imperfect manner. 

When the pupil has arrived at the period of adoles- 
cence, we see him beginning to aid in the work of his 
own education. He comprehends and adopts the best 
design with regard to it; he approves the means of pro- 
moting itj and chooses or appoints them. His parents 
preserve all their right over him, but by degrees they 
lose their power ; their authority would no longer ex- 
ert a salu:ary influence, if they were obliged to use it. 
All should be confidence at first, then complete and 
familiar persuasion. Their moral influence requires 



36 INTRODUCTION. 

the more careful management, as It will very soon di- 
minish, and as this period often gives a direction to the 
whole life. 

It is not easy to employ judiciously, this precious 
and fragile remnant of a decaying power. Observation 
is often rendered useless, by sudden changes which are 
produced in the character of the pupil. We know him 
no longer,* and he has little knowledge of himself. 
He is sincere, but every moment deceived, both with 
regard to himself and every thing about him. His ar- 
dent and flexible imagination always places what he be- 
lieves to be, in the place of what really is ; the combat 
of hopes with possibilities is as yet little felt by him, 
and he lives in an atmosphere of illusions that nothing 
has yet dissipated. Ignorant of the extent or limits of 
his faculties, of what his will can, and what it cannot 
accomplish, he is by turns confident and desponding. 

While this state of fluctuation still continues, and the 
youth is assailed upon all sides by new passions or 
temptations, the hand which had guided him seems 
insensibly withdrawn, and he is often cast alone amidst 

* How true is this observation ! how often is the parent to whom 
the heart of his child had been as an open page, suddenly dismay- 
ed by finding its inscriptions concealed from his inspection, and 
the being whom he had led and influenced without the appearance 
of opposition, bounding from his grasp, and gone, whither he can- 
not follow him ! That is, his affections, desires arid pursuits seem 
changed, and an impenetrable veil now shrouds the internal pro- 
cesses of thought which are going on. The parent must, in sea- 
son, foresee that his passive child will become the self-centred 
man, and so wisely improve and wield power, while in his pos- 
session, that the man shall recognize as his friend, the guardian of 
.the child. [Ed.] 



INTRODUCTION. 37 

the dangers of the world. Yet such is the ascendancy 
of principles which may have been inculcated by a good 
education, such is that of the pure and generous feel- 
ings which may have been easily inspired at an earlier 
age, that not only shall the young man escape the dan- 
gers which surround him, but form anew those virtuous 
resolutions, the accomplishment of w^hich will occupy 
his future life. 

The variety of interesting objects which rise to the 
view of youth is so great, there is such a crowd of new 
feelings and thoughts, new ideas and impressions, that 
it is extremely difficult to analyze and describe the 
condition of the subject of education at this period. 

Whatever else I may omit in this limited sketch, 1 
shall at least consider the essential object, religion, and 
shall endeavor to show how important it is, during that 
short interval, which, with females, separates infancy 
from marriage, to give to future mothers principles of 
piety. 

The remaining part of the work will consider the suc- 
cessive occasions naturally presented to adults to pro- 
mote their own perfection. The young man is hardly 
released from the yoke of parental authority, when a 
strong feeling leads him to resign at least a part of his 
liberty, in uniting the destiny of another to his own. 
Until this period, his only concern had been for himself. 
The object of the devotion of his parents, he had en- 
tered into their views, while he attended to his own in- 
terests, and labored to store his intellect with knowl- 
edge, and his soul with virtues. With the feeling of 
an artist, he had viewed his own character as a work 
which he was to accomplish, and considered that noble 
4 



38 INTRODUCTION. 

and generous qualities were to be its crowning orna" 
ment; — but self was always first in his thoughts. He 
desired that good should be done, but that this good 
should be effected by himself, and considered particular- 
ly the part which he had performed upon every oc- 
casion. Hence that species of self-conceit which so 
often renders young persons disagreeable. 

It is impossible without a strong moral power for 
nature to be subdued, and the bonds of selfishness un- 
loosed. Such a resolution is often reserved to the 
power of paternal love, and perhaps this feeling only is 
capable of entirely effecting it.* By means of this 
sentiment alone, man learns to know true affection, that 
entire consecration of soul which does not expect a re- 
turn equal to what it gives, which looks for no happi- 
ness Uke that which it would procure for the object of 
its attachment. At this period, I shall again direct my 
attention to children, not as being themselves the ob- 
ject of education, but as educating, so to speak, their 
parents, because they place them in a situation where 
^very interest and every feeling concur to make them 
sensible of the necessity of morality, and of its most 
certain source, religion. 

Then terrestrial existence has received its most ex- 
tensive development, when the soul has formed its 
greatest number of relations with other beings. An 
useful member of society, still a son, and already a 
fither, man perceives the various branches of his duty 



* Quere. Is parental love more generous, devoted or self-sac- 
rificing, than that which subsists between the sexes in its liighest 
and purest form of conjugal aiTeclion ? [Ed.] 



INTRODUCTION. 39 

to be widely extended ; and he animates a sphere of 
activity proper to the nature of his faculties. Yet he 
soon discovers that these faculties have their limits. 
Illusions are dissipated by his being perpetually brought 
into contact with real things ; his external influence is 
increased, as a certain ardor diminishes ; the repetition 
of the scenes of the world extinguishes the vivacity of 
his impressions, and his interest in life for himself, 
somewhat abated, passes more and more into that of 
his children ; and upon them his imagination fixes with 
new hopes and new illusions. 

But these children, in the course of their life, do not 
fully satisfy his expectation ; they may very soon stray 
from home, and at last become entirely separated. It 
is the same with a thousand objects of lively interest; 
the esteem and gratitude of others, or some good which 
we had hoped to effect. Every thing decays, is with- 
ered, or fades in the distance. We perceive that af- 
fairs move on without us, and we become detached from 
others and from ourselves. 

But the pious soul, possesses more than the compen- 
sation for the loss of the fascinating charms and illu- 
sions of youth. In such an one, the great sense of duty 
survives all, and gives its possessor an enjoyment and 
activity independent of worldly thoughts and objects. 
The invisible world appears, in proportion as tlie visi- 
ble world vanishes from his sight, and his hopes rest 
upon the only Being who can never deceive him. A 
greater degree of elevation and of tranquillity, and a 
more just appreciation of objects, communicate to him 
a new and entirely different species of greatness. He 
now understands why he was sent into this earth, and 
the plan of human life is unfolded to his understanding. 



40 INTRODUCTION. 

He perceives that, placed upon the earth in order 
that his faculties should be expanded, he is not destin- 
ed to remain connected to the objects which have 
served to unfold them. His new powers aspire to a 
new exercise. The understanding would be elevated 
to a higher contemplation than that of terrestrial objects, 
and that ardent affection which had been called forth 
by imperfect creatures, now seeks to fix itself upon the 
only perfect Being ; — thus his development is not sus- 
pended ; his advancement, though less apparent, is more 
real, and less liable to interruptions. 

His contemplative faculties gain more than his active 
powers seem to have lost, and his higher destination 
may already be manifested in this life. Thus, in old 
age a more entire disinterestedness, a more constant 
serenity, an undefinable something of wise, tranquil, 
and heavenly, seem to surround his venerable brow 
with the anticipated glory of immortality. Thus are 
exemplified those beautiful words of Scripture, ' As the 
outward man decays, the inner man is renewed.' 

It is indeed a strong proof of our immortality that 
this principle of advancement always continues to exist 
in our soul. And as the action of this principle is ne- 
cessarily arrested in advanced life only by the decay of 
corporeal organs, that is to say, by an obstacle which 
may be presented at any other age, it is clear that the 
state of decline towards the close of life, is entirely un- 
connected w^ith the nature of the soul, and that it is no 
argument against the possibility of an eternal progress 
in the extent of its faculties. 

It is true, this progress demands the concurrence of 
our own will. Those who do not penetrate beyond the 



INTRODUCTION. 41 

exterior of things, remain during life occupied with 
vain appearances, and education has not in them ac- 
complished its design. Time not only fails to elevate, 
but it corrupts them. When this is the case, there will 
be a perfection of selfishness instead of devout and holy 
sentiments. Then, the heart becomes more and more 
withered, and the desires more and more debased — the 
personal happiness to wliich the egoist* had attached 
every thing escapes from him, since he has become in- 
sensible to the noblest enjoyments, and no others con- 
tinue. For him, old age is truly desolate. To his ter- 
rified imagination death seems indeed the king of ter- 
rors, and perhaps even more appalling than annihilation: 
but it is painful to dwell upon such a picture. 



* Egoist from ego /, has no synonime in English. Jt means 
one occupied with selfy hence egom/ie, selfishness. [Ed.] 



4* 



PROGRESSIVE EDUCATION. 



CHAPTER I. 

THE DESIGN OF EDUCATION. 

^' To desire virtue for the pleasure it affords, is to fall into epicu.- 
rianism," — Fenelon. 

To bring up a child, is to place it in a situation to ac- 
complish, in the best manner possible, the destination of 
its life. But what is the general destination of human 
life? Upon the answer to this question, evidently depends 
the entire direction of education. We are far from having 
determined this direction, when we say that education has 
for its end the development of the faculties; this is its 
work, rather than its end. 

Education does develop the faculties : if it proposed to 
itself nothing else than to give to the pupil the means of 
existing here below, it would still develop them. At 
Senegal, as in England, certain qualities are cultivated • 
but what qualities do they favor with the preference 1 In 
what sense will be that increase which they would always 
give to the human faculties ? And as the least diflference 
of proportion in the elements of which we are formed, in- 
fluences the nature of our moral constitution, it is neces- 



44 THE DESIGN OF EDUCATION. 

sary to be acquainted with the destination of a person, in 
order to decide Avhat he ought to do. 

The ancients considered happiness the end of human 
existence. Supreme felicity, was presented to them under 
forms, sometimes noble, sometimes more or less sensual ; 
but an idea of seeking it has always existed. Even in our 
own age the attempt is made to revive this kind of philos- 
ophy. Under the equivocal name of utility, some pretend 
even to consider the desire of happiness the foundation of 
morality. But the prominent and sublime feature of 
Christianity, is to have set before man a more elevated 
object than earthly felicity. 

What says the Christian religion in its sacred language ? 
It tells us that, with divine assistance, man can in this life 
begin to revive in his soul the effaced image of the Crea- 
tor ; and that if he complies with the conditions of the gos- 
pel, conditions whose performance has a constant tenden- 
cy to purify his heart, the great atonement offered for his 
offences, ensures him eternal salvation, or a union with 
God in another life. This doctrine is only perfection 
promised as a reward to those who seek to perfect them- 
selves. 

An order of ideas so elevated belongs naturally to the 
source from whence it is derived. We could not ask 
more from a divine revelation ; and we ought not to expect 
less. What is perhaps most astonishing, is, that so many 
persons of superior talents, virtuous characters, and noble 
souls as have in all ages honored humanity, have not con- 
sidered that to assign to man happiness for the sole object 
of his existence upon earth, was to corrupt the moral sen- 
timent in his heart. Indeed, all the attempts to identify 
lelicity and virtue, have not deceived mankind. Neither 
the noble fiction of the Stoics, that vice alone is an evil, 
and that grief is not one ; nor the less elevated assertion 



THE DESIGN OF EDUCATION. 45 

of the Utilitarians, that our duty is always conformed to 
our interest, can sustain examination. However philoso- 
phers may attempt to elevate happiness and lower moral- 
ity, there is always a difference, often an opposition to the 
ideas which they would confound. Reason, experience, 
cool reflection, the emotions of the heart, all tell us that 
to satisfy conscience, it is often necessary to renounce the 
idea of being happy ; they tell us, that if unhappiness is 
inevitably attached to vice, happiness is not, in this life, al- 
ways the reward of virtue. 

It would seem, that such philosophers have taken the 
means for the end. The desire of happiness is one of 
the motives which leads us to develop our faculties, and 
by which we advance towards the true end of our exist- 
ence. But to understand one of the causes of our actions, 
is not to know our final destination. A person ignorant 
of the use of a watch, who should attentively regard the 
interior of one, might comprehend its mechanism; he might 
conceive where resides the moving force, and how it pro- 
duces action ; but would he know that this complicated 
work has for its object the measure of time? This is the 
secret of the inventor, and a person unacquainted with his 
views would not discover it. 

Thus should we pronounce upon the end of human life, 
while limiting ourselves to consider the mechanism of our 
actions. But if we view the result to which the course of 
life will bring us, we see that the supposed end is not ac- 
complished — happiness is not obtained. 

And, moreover, this is only one of the causes of our ac- 
tions. Who can deny that the love of right is also a feel- 
ing natural to man — that justice and truth seem his ele- 
ment? What being is so abandoned of Heaven, as not to 
feel under a moral obligation, as not to know that in this 
world he has duties to perform ? This is truly a law of 



46 THE DKSIGN OF KDUCATION. 

the soul, which is jilways admitted by the roflcctin"- mind, 
which, though we may transgress, we djirc not deny its 
obligation. The other law is, so to speak, only a ))hys- 
ical profx'nsily, like gravitation in dead matter. It is a 
force whicli acts upon our senses, upon those of our incli- 
nations which are at their service; while the liberty, and 
glory of man, consists in the power of resisting this iin- 
|)ulsi()n. 

l^ut why should we weary ourselves to lay a foundation 
lor morality, by proving its necessity? Morality! a uni- 
versal basis Avhich all suppose, upon which everything 
rests, witlioul which there would exist, neither society, lan- 
guage, or human heings. What logic is in reasoning, 
what are the mathematics in the exact sciences, morality 
is in the system of our existence: primitive truth, co-eter- 
nal with ( «od, the expression of his infinite perfections, it 
is manifested in the works of his hand. Man has received 
Its impress; its features disfigured, but ineffaceable, al- 
ways appear in him, notwithstanding his vices, his wan- 
derings, and his false systems. Thus, Avhen Christianity 
shows him the moral law, most excellent, most holy, and 
most severe, and at the same time most merciful, it is no 
sooner offered to his view, than he thinks not of it as a 
discovery, but recognizes it as the law written upon his 
own heart. 

If we descend from this height, we shall find that com- 
mon sense cormnands us not to propose felicity for our 
object, since we know not what it is. The end and the 
road which leads to it are equally unknown, and the very 
idea of happiness is wholly indefinite. The ancients were 
never able to agree with regard to the nature of the supreme 
good; and perhaps it is not in the power of man to define 
it. Jleason tells us what it ought to be rather than Avhat 
it really is. Imagination, more free in its flight, cannot 



THE DESIGN OF EDUCATION. 47 

even fisrure it to itself, with any permanence; and when 
it would represent it, a sort of insipidity is attached to its 
creations. Experience, so instructive, teachers not}iinf( de- 
cisive with rejrard to it; for what do facts tell us? 'J'hat 
with every imaj[(ina])lo ndvaniu^i^ a man may yet be very 
much to be pitied, if ii<'- docs not possess a certain thing- 
called contentment of mind; hut that is to say, that to be 
happy, we must be happy. So that \vh(!n we wisli to de- 
fine happiness, we are always obliged to have recourse to 
synonymous terms. 

If we express ourselves with a severity, which is not 
much allowed in ordinary usage, we shall jx-rhaps find 
that there is something false and contradictory in the idea 
which we are ohligc^d to form of happiness. That it be a 
situation free from trouble, we do not say ; but, since a 
desire not satisfied is a trouble which the imag^ination can 
mag"nify at its will, we are obliged to say that it is a state 
where all our wishes are realized. But, this state would 
in time become very tedious. There would then be no 
motive for eiction, and our powers would remain dormant. 
We have faculties which require to be exercised, and the 
office of imagination is to create some desire capable of 
calling them into action. We are formed, then, to possess 
desires and wishes; this is for us the state of moral health. 
Our souls flow forth in wishes, as the sap of a vigorous 
tree extends itself to the branches. There is no hapj)iness 
without activity, no activity withoiit an end; and whoever 
desires an object, desires that which he has not yet ob- 
tained. Supreme earthly felicity would then be a state in 
which we want something, which is absurd. 

But if this word has not an absolute sense, it takes one 
by comparison. Our condition can be improv(;d ; the 
feeling of existence can be rendered more animated and 
more agreeable. When docs this take place ? It is when 



48 THE DESIGN OF EDUCATION. 

we believe ourselves to be approaching towards the ac- 
complishment of a desired object ; it is when the moral 
feeling is kept alive by hope. The most desirable objects 
of that hope contain in themselves the germ of others ; 
they transport the thought beyond their possession. The 
learned are intent upon discovering some truth which 
shall throw light upon a more general truth ; the charita- 
ble man sees in the good which he at present dispenses 
the commencement of a much greater good. There is al- 
ways a future in the enjoyments which answer our expec- 
tations. If it is otherwise, the pleasure of having obtained 
them does not repay for the trouble of seeking them. 

Happiness, such as we can conceive as existing on 
earth, is not then a fixed situation; it is a progress; it is a 
state in which a mild and regular excitement is sustained 
in us by hope. When we advance towards the accom- 
plishment of a well-chosen end, we enjoy in anticipation 
the moment of its arrival, and at last have the real enjoy- 
ment of this moment. But if there does not proceed from 
that some other interest, some new aliment for the activi- 
ty of the soul, our situation is not much improved. 

The art of being happy, is then the art of dispensing 
hope through our whole life. The most enviable situation 
is that in which we have prospectively a succession of 
ends, all so accessible that we can proceed with calmness 
and confidence, but of which the most distant are the most 
worthy of our desires. We then seem to lose none of our 
steps ; we support cheerfully the fatigues of our voyage, 
and the future is presented to our view under a smiling 
and favorable aspect. 

It is to be remarked, that the greater part of the occu- 
pations of life are formed after such an idea. We see in 
them an increasing progression, in such goods as riches, 
esteem, glory, and power, which deserve the name of 



THE DESIGN OF EDUCATION. 49 

g-Qods, provided they are not esteemed beyond their proper 
value. And when these occupations are in subordination 
to the most elevated of all vocations, to that which offers 
the greatest of all possible advantages of progression, the 
Christian vocation, they undoubtedly present the elements 
of happiness. But such occupations offer only precarious 
compensations, and are not open to all, especially to fe- 
males ; and as physical nature often proceeds in an in- 
verse progression, passing from evil to evil and from deg- 
radation to degradation, it is of infinite importance for the 
human imagination, which is prone to anticipation to fig- 
ure to itself a succession of hopes. 

But if we would obtain contentment, we must not per- 
haps have happiness in view. Those who, in pursuing 
their various occupations, have gathered in their journey 
through life all the happiness which it can afford — those, I 
say, have not proposed happiness as their end. They as- 
pired to some object more precise, more definite, to which, 
if it had been necessary, they would have sacrificed hap- 
piness itself It is thus that they proceed on their path- 
way through life. Not only is the search for happiness 
illusory, but it retards us in the pursuit of what is valu- 
able. 

In fact, the impossibility of forming to ourselves a clear 
idea of happiness, is the reason that our imagination sub- 
stitutes pleasure in its stead. We represent it to ourselves 
as valuable, notwithstanding its fugitive nature: there are in 
the immense treasures of nature and of art, many things 
calculated to delight the senses and the heart of man ; but 
unfortunately, these objects are not always within our 
reach, and when they are, the pleasure they afford is ev- 
anescent, or themselves are perishable. Then the desires 
most difficult to satisfy, are the most inconstant. The 
great rewards of perseverance are lost, and we at last be- 
come disgusted with every thing. 
5 



50 . THE DESIGN OF EDUCATION. 

Besides, the pursuit of happiness renders us more sensi- 
ble to the evils of life ; since there is a peculiar bitterness 
in disappointment, inversely proportioned to what we ex- 
pected. The habit of referring every thing to s^lf, of con- 
sulting our OAvn desires, is to nourish egoism, that unjust 
master who is never satisfied with the exertion we make to 
serve him, and who thus disturbs the whole of our exist- 
ence. Nothing of an earthly nature, when closely con- 
sidered, can fully satisfy the soul. The way to increase the 
griefs and diminish the pleasures of life, is to keep an 
account current of both. 

These considerations are, however, insufReient, and he 
who should limit himself to them would fail in justice to 
the subject. If the search for happiness is idle and vain, 
it is not for that alone that we should renounce it. We 
do not condemn it as a road which leads to evil, but as a 
road which, if it does lead to some good ought not to be 
followed. The principle which holds duty in subordina- 
tion to utility, is bad in itself, independently of the conse- 
quences which result from it. The will of God, or, in 
other words, the moral law, ought not to occupy a second- 
ary place in our heart ; it claims unbounded empire, and 
although it be true that we find it our interest to submit to 
this law, yet we ought not to give this as the motive of 
our obedience. 

Let us rely upon the disposition of the supreme direct- 
or ; he has not neglected the care of our happiness. The 
objects necessary to our preservation and enjoyment, have 
been spread with profusion throughout the universe : the 
inclinations which lead us to these objects are deeply root- 
ed in our very constitution. Involuntarily, we desire 
pleasure, and terrestrial joys : we ought to possess in the 
will a counterpoise to all these instincts. Otherwise, we 
should be incapable of resisting them. If I pursue hap- 



THE DESIGN OF EDUCATION. 51 

piness, from an instinct of my nature, when it is evidently 
contrary to the spirit of the moral law, am I guilty? 

It is said, I know, that for the desire of happiness mere- 
ly, it is often wise to sacrifice the present to the future. 
It is, surely, a very good thing to counsel us to prudence ; 
but without relation to duty, prudence is a quality of 
no moral value, and is often an obstacle to good as well 
as to evil. Should we ever know remorse, if we had only 
to reproach ourselves with having neglected our own grat- 
ifications, or of having made too low an estimate of the 
value of pleasure? Does not an unconquerable feeling 
tell us that our interest is the only thing which we have 
a right to sacrifice ? * 

Those who wish to give to the system of utility, a char- 
acter of grandeur and elevation which it does not possess, 
say, that it is a question of general good, and recommend 
morality, because it is advantageous to society. It is well 
to recommend it, but the means of enforcing its observance 
fail altogether in this doctrine. Once stiffer the principle 
of utility to be, as they would have it, substituted for con- 
science, and how can we expect an individual to sacrifice 
himself for the public good ? They may say, that the in- 
terest of each individual is conformed to that of society : 
but if we do not believe it, if eve-n, setting conscience aside, 
we have frequent reason not to believe it, why shall we 
submit ourselves to their judgment? They may speak to 
us of duty ; but if they have set aside conscience, who 
will listen, or obey them ? No law, but the moral law. 



* It is certainly questionable how far we have a right to sacrifice 
ourselves. God has given to each of his great family the care of 
one being, that is, of himself— and if he neglect this one, or inflict 
upon him unnecessary pain, or deny him reasonable gratifications, 
is he not unfaithful to his trust 7 To have rights as well as to do 
right, seems to be the duty of each individual. [Ed.] 



52 THE DESIGN OF EDUCATION. 

proceeding from God, can be imposed upon us. Hower- 
er imperfect be our nature, an equivocal rule is always 
repugnant to it. Man is weak, inconsistent, and corrupt, 
but he has nevertheless an elevated idea of virtue, and if 
the divine light is little manifested in his conduct, we do 
see it shine forth in the loftiness of his conceptions. 

Is it then true, as is pretended, that the two opinions up- 
on the end of human life, apparently so contrary, are, in 
reality only the same opinion, and that they both have 
happiness for their final end ? Is it true that those who 
have for their object virtue, or perfection, only prefer one 
kind of enjoyment to another? It is always easy to con- 
found things ; but it appears to me that those who reason 
thus, have not been close observers of human nature. 
Without dwelling upon the grand examples which his- 
tory affords, without citing those devoted heroes who have 
had no other prospect than suffering, no other hope for 
themselves than death, I would say, that the attentive ex- 
amination of what passes even in our OAvn souls will lead 
us to another conclusion. 

I do not apprehend that when a person enters upon a 
career of painful duties, he forms to himself, clearly, one 
joy in the future. He submits to an obligation without 
appeal; he obeys an imperious law, without thinking 
whether any happiness will ensue. The calm region of 
duty is superior to that of hopes and fears ; there are not 
felt those fluctuations, which are the effect of the unequal 
appreciation of pains and pleasures ; all is constant, abso- 
lute, and of an enduring nature : — it is not the enjoyments 
of virtue, which the good seek, but virtue ; it is not the 
consolations of religion that they desire, but God himself, 
and in conformity to His will. This region which seems 
so elevated, is yet accessible to souls which are strangers 
to all the refinements of philosophy and learning, while 



THE DESIGN OF EDUCATION. 53 

that in which a person can enjoy the sacrifice of himself, 
is much less accessible ; for, to find a charm in the idea of 
self-devotion, requires a kind of elevation rarely found 
among men, and inconstant even in those who are suscep- 
tible of experiencing it. The great and sublime emotions 
excited by the most elevated sentiments, do not fall to the 
share of all mortals ; age weakens them, misfortunes de- 
stroy them : they may be the reward, they are not the 
pure, and unalterable essence, of attachment to our duty. 
In this world such sentiments are connected with enthusi- 
asm ; in heaven they will be calm and lasting. 

We must now return to the double nature of man. The 
contradictory results which are offered in the complex 
study of the human heart, can never be explained, if we 
do not admit that we are actuated by more than one mo- 
tive. And since in the physical world all is opposition 
of forces, why should we expect to find in the moral world 
but one principle ? There are in us two laws, as St. Paul 
has said ; * our feelings, experienrce, and reason, bear wit- 
ness to the same. While some instincts, necessary per- 
haps in the physical order, but blind, and urging us for- 
ward in pursuit of pleasure, develop our faculties, we feel 
ihat our faculties, and even life are only designed to ele- 
vate us to a superior situation, and to restore degraded hu- 
manity to its primitive rank 

To say that religion itself proposes in the future, eternal 
happiness for our object, would be to enter upon an order 
of thoughts entirely different. On this occasion, as in 
others, the sacred writers have employed the received ex- 
pression, and the reason of this is obvious, since all the 
ideas which they give of future rewards, are necessarily 
connected in our mind, with great happiness. The senti- 

+ Romans vi. 23. 
5* 



54 THE DESIGN OF EDUCATION. 

ment of existence, is so sweet, that immortality, joined to 
an exemption from the disquietudes and evils of life, must 
appear to us a very happy condition. But in the imper- 
fect images which direct our hope, the idea of enjoyment 
never occupies the first place, while that of a more pure 
and elevated state, always does. Sometimes 'itis a crown 
of glory that fadeth not away^ * ' an exceeding and eter- 
nal weight of glory^ \ ' the inheritance of the saints in 
light ;^\ sometimes ' 'participation of the divine nature^ ^ 
' a new heaven and a new earthy wherein dwelleth righte- 
ousness^ II ' the heavenly Jerusalem, enlightened by the 
glory of God.^ ** The word glory is constantly employ- 
ed here, and since this word often signifies the progress 
of the Christian in holiness upon earth, since we see that 
the faithful, 'are transformed from glory to glory, as by 
the spirit of the Lord,' ft it would seem that the recom- 
pense is of the same nature as the means by which we are 
called to obtain it, and that the regeneration commenced 
in this life, is to be finished in another. Religion thus 
confirms and sanctions, under the most expressive forms, 
that law of one immortal soul, which obliges it to become 
perfect. 

Rigorous and imperative in the domain of morality, 
such a law governs equally all the faculties of the soul. 
The mind rises towards truth, the imagination towards 
beauty, and the conscience towards virtue.}}: The whole 

* 1 Peter v. 4. t 2 Cor. iv. 17. t Colos. i. 12. 

§ 1 Pet. i. 4. II 1 Pet. iii. 13. ** Apocalj'pse xxi. 

11. 23. tt 2 Cor. iii. 18. 

tt It is desirable that Metaphysicians should be able to fix some 
certain meaning to the words mind, spirit, soul, &c. But while 
some contend that mind is a generic term, including all of man 
that is not matter, others would make the mind serve as a connect- 



THE DESIGN OF EDUCATION. 55 

spiritual being receives an impulse. Why should we 
have been deprived of unerring instinct, the prerogative of 
inferior creatures, if Heaven, to make amends for our con- 
stant errors, had not endowed us with an irresistible desire 
for psrfection. The want, the presentiment of a better 
state, are the instinct of man. He constantly examines, 
revises, and corrects his works, his instruments of labor, 
and his means of acquiring knowledge. A hope which 
is never realized, is not however entirely deceived: he 
arrives at improvement, although he does not attain per- 
fection ; his fate is to desire more than he can attain. 

ing link between the body and soul ; considering that the soul is the 
spiritual and immortal part of man, while the mind is connected 
more especially with the senses; that mind is common both to 
brutes and men, while the latter only possess souls. All this seems 
to be encumbering Mental Philosophy with u*;ele s and absurd dis- 
tinctions. Matter is one thing ; mind, spirit, or soul is another. 
Respecting the latter, we know only its operations, and surely these 
operations do not of themselves constitute a new class of svbstances. 
We call the various changes which take place in matter, gravita- 
tion, affinity, &c. and the changes which take place in mind, rea- 
soning, loving, &c. We divide matter into various classes, as min- 
erals, plEmts, &c.; and we consider mind as susceptible of an ar- 
rangement into the will, understanding, emotions, &c. The neces- 
sity of insisting on some third term to apply to the brute creation, 
seems unnecessary, since, while we a i w to them, some of the prop- 
erties of mind, especially such as produce sensations, with even some 
of the higher powers, which seem to exist in certain tribes of animals, 
we perceive them incapable of moral distinctions, and therefore desti- 
tute of that element of mind which is necessary to fit it for glory and 
immortality. The poet who exclaims, ' Mind alone, bear witness 
earth and heaven ! The livin: fountains, in itself, contains of Beau- 
teous and Sublime,' seems to be fully of opinion that there is nothing 
more spiritual and more elevated than the mind itself. Returning 
then to the Author's expression, ' the mind rises towards truth,' or 
we would substitute for mitid, understanding, c . idering the 
three terms, understanding, imagination and conscience as orders 
of the mental faculties which constitute the mind, [Ed.] 



58 THE DEsl&N OF EDUCATION. 

The desire for perfection, is that which education ought 
assiduously to cherish. To excite^ preserve, and regulate 
it, is its most sacred ta.<^k. And as the greatest degree of 
happiness with a rational being can only be found in the 
path of his true destination, instructors will just so much 
better attend to the interests of happiness, as they will 
cause to prevail over the other desires of the pupil that of 
becoming perfect. 

Education ought then to be suited to our double desti- 
nation; it ought to prepare the child for two successive 
existences. Behold an immortal mind, which is here to be 
fitted for eternity, and a weak creature, sent into the 
world to suffer and to die ! 

The constitution of our nature is adapted to these two 
conditions. The soul has faculties fitted for its abode on 
earth, and it possesses those which bear its views and 
hopes beyond it Both ought to be developed by educa- 
tion. Since it is not the will of God to call us immediate- 
ly to himself, and as he has obliged us to seek him in our 
journey through life, it is the duty of the instructor to pro- 
vide the child with what is necessary in the voyage. 

But that life is a voyage, that it is only the swift pro- 
gress towards eternity, is an idea which ought to be at- 
tached to every period of our existence ; it is what should 
always be kept in view, and what, in my opinion, is not 
sufficiently expressed in the various definitions usually 
given of education. It is supposed to consist in bringing 
the youth to a certain state, rather than in implanting a 
disposition, which shall make him, at a future day infi- 
nitely surpass that state ; and yet, as the greatest moral 
and intellectual development, in childhood, is nothing, 
compared to what we expect in mature age, it is much 
more essential to give it this disposition. The progress 
already made is of much less importance than an inclina- 
tion to make further progress ; so that it is less necessary 



THE DESIGN OF EDUCATION. 57 

to inquire with regard to the degree of advancement which 
the child has already made than with regard to the dispo- 
sition it manifests for the future. The nearer a pupil ap- 
proaches to the general level of society, in respect to 
knowledge or religion, the more easily can he persuade 
himself that he has nothing more to acquire upon these 
subjects, and may relax his efforts, thus stopping at medi- 
ocrity, unless some new stimulus is added to renew his 
vigor. 

This is why so many educations, apparently well con- 
ducted, produce insignificant results. This is the reason 
why so many minds disappoint our expectations. When 
there is no internal excitement, all very soon withers and 
falls to decay. Not to increase, is to decrease ; not to ad- 
vance, is to go back ; thus is it with human nature. If 
there is within us, a principle of restoration, there is also 
a principle of decay. We must exert ourselves, in order 
that we do not descend, and this can be done only by en- 
deavoring to rise. 

According to Kant, the end of education would be this: 
' to develop in the individual all the perftcAwn of vjhich 
he is susceptible.^ But as such a work cannot be accom- 
plished in childhood, and as it requires for its achieve- 
ment the entire existence, I would propose a slight change 
of this fine definition : to give to the pupil the vnil and 
the means of arriving at the perfection of which he will 
one day be susceptible.. 

This supposes in the instructor some idea of the per- 
fection to which he may aspire, and, moreover, a know- 
ledge of the causes which act upon the will. This will 
be the subject of the following chapters. 



( 58 ) 



CHAPTER II. 

OF THE IDEA WHICH THE INSTRUCTOR OUGHT TO FORM 
OF PERFECTION. URIM AND THUMMIM, LIGHT AND 
PERFECTION. (GeNESIs) SYMBOLS OF THE MOST HIGH 
FIGURED UPON THE BREASTPLATE OF THE JEWISH 
HIGH PRIEST. 

Perfection, that noble end of education, of life, is not 
to be found upon earth any more than happiness ; but we 
are much less liable to wander in its search. Even while 
ignorant of its nature, we can always approach nearer to 
it, since the road which leads there is well marked.* 
And, if in proportion as we advance our strength increas- 
es, if we soon gain a better climate, and breathe a purer 
air, we shall not fail on our journey, of either encourage- 
ment or reward. 

It is necessary however to form some idea of Avhat we 
wish to obtain ; and what idea can we form of perfection, 
since we have never found it, and even our imagination 
cannot clearly represent it to us 7 How can we do this, 
as, in examining each object, we judge it constantly infe- 
rior to that veiled image, w^hich seems to us to soar above 
ourselves, and all things about us ? This judgment can 
only be the result of a comparison, for which we seem to 

*0r, to express the same idea in the beautiful and expressive lan- 
guage of the Scriptures, ' The way-faring man, though a fool, need 
not err therein.' [Ed.] 



PERFECTION SHOULD BE AIMED AT. 59 

want one of the terms. Some general considerations will 
perhaps aid us in the elucidation of this question. 

We do not inquire here with regard to that sovereign 
perfection which is called absolute, to show that it is sus- 
ceptible of no more increase, an idea which can only be 
understood to apply to God. Indeed, the excellence 
which seems to us to constitute perfection, is of a nature 
to increase without limit. Whatever grandeur may be 
assigned to intelligence, strength, and beauty, we can al- 
ways add to it one degree more. It is in the region of 
infinity, that human thought loses itself, and perceives there 
can be nothing greater or more perfect. It is then rela- 
tive perfection only which we have to consider. 

In this life an object is accounted perfect when it is what 
it should be ; that is to say, when it fully answers its des- 
tination. At the moment of creation, the Almighty as- 
signed to each of his works its destination, and in this 
sense, all beings, which answer to the views of God are 
perfect. Yet as some are endowed with properties or 
faculties, of which others are destitute, there appears to us 
a sort of hierarchy, among created beings. We attribute 
to them a rank proportioned to the grandeur of the quali. 
ties which they display, or to the importance of their des- 
tination, and this rank seems to determine the degree of 
their relative perfection. 

Yet it is not always easy to estimate this degree ; it 
would be necessary for us to knoAv the grand outline of 
the plan of God, in order to decide what place, each object 
ought to occupy, the link which connects it to other ob- 
jects, and the qualities which these relations demand- 
The contemplation of nature, doubtless reveals to us some 
of the designs of God. We see the heavenly bodies ac- 
complish their revolutions in fixed periods, — the seasons 
succeed each other regularly, the various species of plants 
and animals maintained and perpetuated, — order, motion, 



60 PERFECTION SHOULD BE AIMED AT. 

and life, preserved throughout the universe. The whole 
is too regular, the dependence of the parts too intimate 
for the perfection of the whole, not to answer to that of the 
parts. But how far are our vague ideas from the exact 
knowledge even of each piece of the grand mechanism. 
Not only are we without any ideas of what nature ought 
to be, but we cannot distinguish exactly what it is, when 
presented to us in reality. Our superficial observation 
stops before it arrives at the essence of bodies ; and one 
of the most interesting of all subjects, the organization of 
living beings, remains to us a profound mystery. We 
imagine however that we discover gradually the perfec- 
tion of the works of God ; but we cannot judge of them ; 
his works, as well as himself, surpass in every respect, 
our narrow views, and we can only approach the vestibule 
of his conceptions. 

But when called to appreciate the works of man, the 
same disproportion does not exist. There the artist and 
the judge are upon a level, and the one has no faculty 
foreign to the other. Yet even here, the uncertainty of 
our ideas confuses us ; and we know not clearly enough 
what ought to be, to pronounce respecting what is. We 
understand in general what effect an artist has wished to 
produce, but we are ignorant whether he has taken the 
best means to succeed. 

We review his plan, we remodel it in our mind ; and 
only perceive the defects of our inventions, when we come 
to put our theory in practice. But, through the darkness 
which obscures our mental vision, we almost always dis- 
cover two species of imperfections ; one in the first idea of 
the workmen, and another in the execution of the work ; 
such are the sources of imperfection profusely spread over 
human productions. 

If we wish to remove at least one of these sources, we 
must leave the region of the fine arts, and enter the humble 



PERFECTION SHOULD BE AIMED AT. 61 

domain of mechanical arts. There, in the representation 
of geometrical figures, which answer to the most precise 
notions of our mind, we can be sufficiently near to see 
perfection realized. If, for example, I demand of a work- 
man to construct for me, in metal or ivory, a sphere, a cyl- 
inder, or a cube, as I well know what I have in view, if 
the execution of that object is regular, I have nothing 
more to desire. Nicer organs than mine, would perhaps 
find defects in them, but as I am formed, I do not see them, 
and I pronounce the work to be perfect. 

A decision so favorable, leaves me, it is true, completely 
cold. It is an act of judgment which has only the char- 
acter of approbation, unaccompanied with admiration. But 
in this inferior perfection, we can seize 'upon the most im- 
portant element in the idea of perfection. In all which 
falls under the province of judgment, reason ought to give 
its full and entire approbation. And, as there are some 
qualities which reason has a right to require in all objects, 
as she very well knows in what these qualities consist, 
and as the notions which she has of them, without attain- 
ing altogether to mathematical precision, are among the 
number of those most clear to our mind, it is essential 
that relatively to those at least the conformity of what is, 
with what ought to be, should be complete. Thus in 
material works, the adaptation of means to an end, the 
just proportion and intimate connexion of parts, the dura- 
tion, and utility of the object are among the number of obli- 
gatory conditions. There are qualities correspondent to 
them in the moral domain ; so that if we give the name of 
regularity to the whole of those qualities which are at- 
tached to our notions of order, and which are to be judged 
by reason, we shall say that regularity is the first and in- 
dispensable element of perfection. 

But this element is not the only one ; there is another, 
which, wherever it can be found, is equally necessary. 
6 



62 PERFECTION SHOULD BE AIMED AT. 

Perfection, in itself, supposes a combination of all excel- 
lencies, and there are kinds of merit which judgment 
alone does not appreciate. All is not reason in man; 
feeling, and imagination, have their rights. We wish to 
admire; w^e cherish this sweet and grand emotion, and 
beauty is the natural subject of admiration. We desire 
both moral and physical beauty, and when the obligations 
imposed by duty are fulfilled, we then ask for these. 
Here, is presented an element, infinite by its nature, con- 
stantly susceptible of a greater degree of development. 
And from this it arises, that our desires are insatiable, and 
that the only perfection which can satisfy them, seems al- 
ways to escape us. 

What is beauty? A question insolvable, perhaps, or 
which at least has never yet been solved. We have nev- 
er discovered the common characteristic of the various 
objects which excite our admiration. They charm and 
fascinate us, they suspend for a moment the monotonous 
course of our existence, they transport us beyond the earth 
and from ourselves. The effect which they produce upon 
us sometimes unites them in our thoughts ; but the link is 
not in them, it is in our soul. 

What resemblance can w^e find between what are the 
most simple of all things, a brilliant or delicate color, and 
a melodious sound, and the immense complication of ob- 
jects, v.'hich the magnificent aspect of nature presents to 
us ? And yet the rapid and fugitive impression of such a 
color and such a sound, as well as the more permanent 
effect of a landscape, obliges us to exclaim, It is beautiful ! 
What is this power of moving our souls possessed by ter- 
restrial things 1 What is this indefinable charm, myste- 
rious blessing of our existence ? Is it an anticipation of 
another state of being, a reflection of celestial splendor, an 
echo of the harmony above ? Is it an impulse given to the 
soul, destined hereafter to contemplate infinite beauty? 



PERFECTION SHOULD BE AIMED AT. 63 

And this rapture mingled with a soft melancholy, is its 
use to remind us that we are only pilgrims on earth? 
There is in this a proof of goodness which we cannot 
misunderstand. 

In order to distinguish ideas often confused, we observe 
that regularity is not a condition necessary to beauty. It 
becomes such if we require perfect beauty; but then the 
idea is not the most simple, and we form perfection by 
combining the two elements which constitute it. But if 
we seek to separate them, in taking for the sole character 
of beauty, the power of exciting admiration, we see that 
the sentiment can be more easily inspired. A child is 
presented to our view, and we are charmed with its dazzling 
complexion, and the brilliancy of its eyes, while perhaps 
its features will not sustain examination. The finest points 
of view in nature present nothing regular. And in the 
moral world, where order is represented by duty, how 
many actions which are not conformed to this rule excite 
our approbation ! A mother precipitates herself into the 
waves to perish with her drowning child : such a devo- 
tion appears to us noble ; our feeelings compel us to say it, 
and yet if she was the only support of an aged parent, she 
has done wrong. An heroic courage, the generous exal. 
tation of the most tender affections, have often produced 
sacrifices, which, though an austere morality would con- 
demn, yet to which an idea of beauty is invincibly attached. 
From this fruitful source, spring the arts ; and when they 
add their enchanting illusions to a charm already too, pow- 
erful, they raise to enthusiasm the admiration which cer- 
tain acts excite in us. Self-devotion is a principle common 
to all dazzling actions. 

This seems to lead me to form some idea of perfection. 
In point of regularity, reason is the supreme judge, and 
reason knows what she wishes. She seeks to find quali- 
ties of which she has precise notions, and even when she 
can figure to herself no object which combines these 



64 PERFECTION SHOULD BE AIMED AT. 

qualities, she can in each real object deny or affirm the 
existence of them. This is a simple act of judgment, of 
which the most dull imaginations are capable. 

The case is not the same, with regard to the other ele- 
ment. We cannot define precisely beauty in the physical 
order ; and in the moral order, we know better what are 
the qualities deserving of our esteem, than the vivid emo- 
tion to which the name of admiration is attached. It 
seems, in truth, that the sacrifice of one's self is the gene- 
ral character, which presents the most sublime examples. 
But if this enters necessarily into the idea of moral beauty, 
it is nevertheless insufficient to constitute it entirely, since 
a devotion which should be only an effect of weakness or 
habit, would aflfect us but little : thus there always remains 
something unknown to discover. The pleasure attached 
to admiration, is not, then, owing entirely to the exercise 
of the understanding, which is only satisfied with what it 
can clearly explain, but is owing rather to the flight of our 
most elevated faculties. The idea of beauty once enkin- 
dled in the bosom of man, the emotions are warmed, and 
imagination spreads her wings. Then it is no more real 
qualities which the mind contemplates, but lively, anima- 
ted representations, clothed with colors more brilliant than 
those of reality. When the wonders of the arts, the mas- 
ter-pieces of genius, or the splendid endowments of one of 
our fellow-mortals excite in us lively emotions, they effect 
a development in our own soul, and .the enchantment 
which we experience is perhaps less connected with the 
object of our admiration than with the charms of a new 
beauty which they have served to reveal to us. Thus, 
while they have at first surpassed our expectation, we soon 
discover defects in them, because they are far from equal- 
ling the ideal model formed in our mind. The nearer 
these terrestrial things approach perfection, the more ele- 
vated becomes the idea of perfection. The elements of 



PERFECTION SHOULD BE AIMED AT. G5 

which it is composed, appear to us made to unite in an 
harmonious whole, and even the conditions which reason 
requires seem to add to beauty. 

This is equally applicable to education. In proposing 
to form the character of the creature called man, instruct- 
ors have to execute a work which they should seek to 
render perfect. They must not then lose sight of the two 
conditions necessary to form perfection. Reason, severe 
in her exactions, can define what she has a right to de- 
mand. She wishes a useful member of society, of the 
state and of the family; a man who attends to his own in- 
terest without injuring that of others, and who assists them 
as far as he is able; an enlightened man, who contributes 
to the progress of knowledge, and civilization ; and who 
shows himself the advocate of religion, as well as a defend- 
er of morality. Behold the man modelled by reason. 
He will never be discovered in fault: we shall always 
approve his conduct, but we do not go so far as to admire 
him, and it is doubtful whether we should love him, if he 
had no other title to our esteem than his well-regulated 
conduct. 

What is there then to regret in the original of such a 
portrait? What can be wanting to it? It lacks moral beauty : 
that element which expands the soul, which betrays in man 
the immortal being. Indications apparently very slight, can 
serve to discover to us modes of existence very different. 
He within whom rules the active principle of moral beauty, 
will di.stingui.sh himself little in his actions, from the man 
otherwise accomplished to whom this element is wanting. 
The first will be wise like the other, but his wisdom will 
have the air of inspiration ; he will observe rule, like the 
other, but without thinking always that he does observe it : 
indeed it would seem rather that a happy harmony unites 
his feelings to his duty; thus we shall always approve 
him, but a more lively sympathy will draw us nearer him 
6* 



66 PERFECTION SHOULD BE AIMED AT. 

and, by a singular contrast, we shall feel him more like 
ourselves, more our brother, and yet most superior to us. 
A word, a look, will be sufficient to establish between 
him and ourselves a rapid electric communication;* we 
know him before he acts ; we know that upon the first 
signal, he will fly to the relief of suffering humanity ; we 
shall find him in the day of misfortune. 

Whence then proceed these impressions so different? 
Is there a real cause for the almost opposite feelings which 
these two beings excite in my mind ? Yes, there is one ; 
I believe the one capable of devotion, and I strongly doubt 
that the other is. Without the power of devotion there is 
no moral beauty. Nothing noble or great can exist on 
earth, without the powerful feeling which raises man 
above himself, which devotes him to an object worthy of 
his love, and, rendering him superior to the timid instincts 
of nature, seems to raise him above the limits set to hu- 
manity. When this living, expansive principle of moral 
beauty is wanting, man possesses but a cold merit, a pre- 
cise regularity, the result of painful efforts to accomplish 
a work, Avhich affects us little. It recalls to us the cube, 



* What mind above the common mass of cold and heartless beings 
has not felt this kindling of its best emotions, when accidental col- 
lision with a kindred mind has elicited a sudden flash of feeling 1 
In the circles of fashion this is perhaps a rare phenomenon ; for we 
do not here refer to a transient admiration, or that of sentiment 
which evaporates as soon as expressed ; but we mean that union of 
soul which sometimes takes place between kindred minds, in whom 
the finest feelings of nature, instead of being blasted by a servile de- 
votion to low and worldly objects, have been cherished by the con- 
sideration of the high hopes and destiny of man, and a life consecra- 
ted to noble thoughts and pursuits. When such beings meet, they 
will at once feel and understand the tie which exists between them ; 
if this be true with respect to those influenced by moral virtue only, 
how much more so of the disciples of Jesus ! [Ed.] 



PERFECTION SHOULD BE AIMED AT. 67 

or the well-polished ball, and our indifference to these 
symmetrical forms tells us that this is not the perfection 
for man. 

Yet when regard for order and rule is carried so far 
as to give him who experiences it the power of sacrificing 
all to his duty, we may ask if we do not find in his devo- 
tion the principle of moral beauty, and if he does not ex- 
hibit the most elevated perfection ? Without doubt he will 
present a spectacle worthy to be admired ; he will realize 
stoicism, the sublime conception of ancient times, which 
has never been entirely foreign to great and generous 
souls : but it is upon universal sentiments that education 
should be founded, not upon a rare enthusiasm. The 
virtue and perfection which such a system supposes, are 
the noblest of human conceptions, but they are of an ab- 
stract nature. The most excellent qualities should be 
presented to us in a real object, in order to take consist- 
ence and life, and if that object is not God, it will be self. 
Here is a constant source of deception. It is, as Fenelon 
has said, self virtuous, and perfect self which we wor- 
ship, when we imagine we only honor virtue ; so that 
the worship which seems the most pure, often degene- 
rates insensibly, into homage to our own merit. 

Selfishness and pride, are almost inevitable with the 
being who has not consecrated his life to an object supe- 
rior to himself But, what is the object worthy to become 
the supreme object of man's desires ? What is it which 
can satisfy wishes so boundless ? There is but one such 
subject. Perfection is in God only, or, rather, it is God 
himself — God considered in his moral attributes. Mortal 
eyes have been allowed to contemplate his sublime image. 
The divine majesty has appeared in the Saviour of the 
world, veiled under the most lovely features of humanity. 
And when the splendor of celestial endowments is joined 
to the touching character of devotion, we not only admire. 



68 PERFECTION SHOULD BE AIMED AT. 

but love so perfect a model ; an infinite gratitude fills our 
heart with a desire of imitation. 

Such is the power of Christianity. A new affection 
communicates to man a new zeal, which raises him above 
himself, and the individual can henceforth advance to- 
wards perfection. 



( 69 ) 



CHAPTER III. 

OF PERFECTION CONSIDERED WITH RELATION TO 
NATURAL AND SOCIAL INEQUALITIES. 

" Education should be displayed in the external appearance of the 
individual." — J. P. Richter. 

Among human enterprizes, there are few which resem- 
ble that of education. The weakness of human nature 
presents an obstacle to the accomplishment of good, both 
in the instructor and in the pupil — in the workman, and 
in the substance wrought upon. We are there restrained 
upon all sides in the display of our zeal, and even in the 
flight of our imagination, since the point is not to create, 
but to direct a development, which is often slow in its pro- 
gress. Ideal perfection would demand that the work once 
accomplished, this development should be complete ; that 
the noble attributes of humanity should be exhibited in the 
pupil in all their excellence : but this is what we dare not 
hope. 

There are limits imposed by nature upon the individ- 
ual, as there are those enjoined by the social order upon 
whole classes of men. 

What do we discover in the individual in early life? 
Faculties of different degrees of elevation, more or less 
susceptible of progress. Their extension and proportions 
are little known to us ; but what we perceive of them, does 



70 THE PERFECTION OF OUR NATURE CONSIDERED. 

not answer to our wishes. Yet there is one method better 
than any other to pursue in the direction of these endow- 
ments. It is important to produce a combination so happy 
that these elements of unequal force shall be in equilibri- 
um, and that the conditions imposed by religion and so- 
ciety may be filled. From this arises a kind of peculiar 
perfection for each pupil, and, when it is necessary to im- 
agine, in anticipation. The instructor should have in 
view, a certain whole which he has never seen, but of 
which the child itself, in its most agreeable and interesting 
moments, gives him by degrees the idea. 

That harmonious agreement which is presented by all 
parts of the works of nature, man was doubtless designed 
to offer ; it seems yet to reign in early infancy, and an 
excellent education ought unquestionably to preserve it ; 
but this is what we are far from having attained, as expe- 
rience bat too plainly shows. 

When we observe the generality of men, we feel that 
they are not what they might have become. Do they 
possess eminent qualities ? we perceive with so much the 
more pain certain defects which form with them a shock- 
ing contrast, and which seem scarcely to belong to the 
real character. The exclamation. What a pity ! often es- 
capes in speaking of those w^hom we most admire ; and 
perhaps it may in certain cases be applied to every one. 

On the contrary, if we observe narrowly less gifted be- 
ings, Ave find them not so far in the back ground as we at 
first supposed. They always possessed some talent ; a 
particular aptitude to fill certain situations, and Avhere 
they experience a tender or generous emotion, Ave perceive 
sudden flashes, AA'hich discover to us the kind of merit or 
perfection, Avhich they might have possessed. They seem 
to be fruits of natural endoAvments, Avhich have not been 
brought to maturity, or rather imperfect sketches of Avhat 
was destined to have exhibited a more finished model, 



THK PEKFECTION OF OUR NATURE CONSIDERED. 71 

But it is above all in regarding ourselves, that we are 
inclined to cherish these sentiments. Self-love, so often 
undeceived by the realities of life, considers the excellence 
of our natural talents. We were made to be better, we 
think, but circumstances have not favored us, and our own 
efforts have been weak or inconstant. What there is true 
in this respect, favors an illusion which is dear to us, and 
we constantly regret some lost superiority, some brilliant 
display of our faculties which Ave have not been able to 
make. 

These thoughts were familiar to the ancients, of Avhich 
the worship they rendered to their good genius is a proof 
They saw in that supernatural being a kind of image of 
their own person, a better self released from the shackles 
of humanity, and designed to lead them by the hand 
through life. This being became the object of their warm 
affection : they invoked it, they offered it sacrifices, and to 
it their birth-day was particularly consecrated. W^hen, 
upon important occasions, they came to consult it, it was 
as an appeal to what was most pure and most elevated in 
themselves. 

This fiction exhibits the genius of Paganism : wherever 
we meet with it, we find there the characteristics of such 
a system — the deification of nature, considered as especial- 
ly connected with each individual. It was also a species 
of God which the ancients sought to form in their sage. 
Their religion lowered the character of divinity in order 
to elevate that of man. 

Yet the fable of the good genii presents itself under an 
interesting form. In attributing a celestial type to the in- 
dividual, it inspires a certain respect for the human form ; 
it imparts a sacredness and relief to the distinctive traits 
of each individual. It suggests to us a sentiment which 
should not be a stranger to our hearts. If the same crea- 
tive hand, which has so magnificently diversified its 



72 THE PERFECTION OF OUR NATURE CONSIDERED. 

productions in the universe, has stamped upon each human 
being a peculiar character, then this character offers to us 
something sacred. It is the seal of the divine work, and 
the instructor should endeavor to preserve it. To discov- 
er how the greatest possible perfection may be given to 
the decided original bent of the mind, should be the object 
of his exertions. 

It is indeed when he reaches this point, that man exer- 
cises the most power, that his qualities are most imposing, 
and that he accomplishes great things, with the least ef- 
fort. It is here that a happy agreement is found between 
his sentiment and his conduct, his words and the expres- 
sion of his physiognomy and his voice. If we recal to 
our thoughts the most lively impressions we have received, 
if we revive our most agreeable and dear remembrances, 
they will transport us to the mom^ent when a being whom 
we admire has seemed to Teveal his entire existence to us 
by a word, a gesture, or a look, which could belong only 
to himself It is not always by his excellencies, it is per- 
haps even, by his eccentricities, that a distinguished man 
captivates our heart and delights our imagination. 

Thus, great talents have always been accompanied by a 
strongly marked impression of originality, found with 
those who have rendered themselves illustrious by their 
virtues, or by the difficult enterprizes which they have 
accomplished. It is often manifested in early infancy, 
and when this is the case, it points out to education an im- 
portant duty. It is the proof of a vigorous cast of charac- 
ter, and of a moral health. When nature is constrained 
or checked, it is certain that a wrong course is pursued 
with the subject of education. 

It is, however, of importance to stop at the precise point. 
This fine expression of countenance is an advantage which 
should be preserved when it exists, and not procured by 
art. 



THE PERFECTION OF OUR NATURE CONSIDERED. 73 

It is the effect of certain happy endoAvments, which, in 
manifesting themselves, should be seen in harmony with 
truly solid qualities. Their development is always earli- 
est, because this is the course of nature ; but the progress 
of other qualities should advance sufficiently near, that 
they may support and fall in with the general character. 
If this cannot be the case, and the most important qualities 
must remain dormant, if we cannot hope that the whole 
moral being will increase together, it is better to repress 
a peculiarity which would produce no salutary result. 
The efforts of education should then be entirely directed to 
the weak side. 

This seems to be a point upon which there is little 
agreement. Parents are tempted to take advantage of the 
dominant quality ; they fear to produce in the mind of the 
pupil a certain level which is frequently met with in very 
ordinary men. But with those this level, perhaps, has 
been the triumph of education ; without it they might 
have been as destitute of judgment, as they now are of 
genius. 

When once the great foundations are laid, and the inter- 
nal equilibrium solidly established, peculiar tastes may be 
indulged ; but in childhood good proportions are all-im- 
portant. Even genius bears its first fruits only in a well- 
regulated mind. Without effacing, therefore, the predom- 
inant trait of character, we should seek to make it harmo- 
nize with all the others. 

The same fault is often committed from other motives. It 
is so fatiguing to be obliged to stimulate dull faculties, that 
a teacher sometimes allows himself to be entirely led by 
any thing promising in the materials which he has to op- 
erate upon ; and, as these are materials which are easily 
moulded into any form, a serious evil results. Thus, one 
pupil is all memory, another all imagination. This is the 
consequence of great mistakes in education. The same 
7 



74 THE PERFECTION OE OrR NATURE CONSIDERED. 

may be said of the employment of certain principles, as 
self-love, or an acute sensibility. These are good auxilia- 
ries for education, only when they are in a state of activity ; 
but it is precisely then that it is dangerous to excite them. 
To exercise constantly the preponderating force, and suffer 
others to lie dormant, is to add more and more to the mor- 
al disproportion. 

The weakness of indispensable faculties, such for ex- 
ample, as reason, frequently imposes upon us the duty of 
checking the progress of certain other powers, and of early 
limiting the extent of the mental development in several 
respects. It is of importance that the impulse upon the 
soul be general, that all the faculties advance side by side, 
and yet each should be exercised separately, in order that 
their different degrees of strength may be tested. An at- 
tentive examination of the springs which act upon the 
young mind, is indispensable ; for when results only are 
considered, we are always in danger of being misled. 

I would remark here, that religion, which ought to 
be the centre, or as the common trunk of the various 
branches of education, can also furnish, at each era, the 
precise point where certain development should cease. 
When the growth of a particular faculty is too rapid for 
the general character, the pupil delighting in its exercise, 
is excessively pleased with any trifling success which it 
procures him, and infallibly prides himself in it. He 
knows no longer how to distinguish true excellence, and 
the only progress of importance, that of the soul, interests 
him no more. Then religious feeling chills m his heart, 
the sense of his duty becomes weaker, and the value Avhich 
he sets upon his own talents, leads him to despise those 
of his equals. Thus, far from truly expanding, his spirit 
becomes contracted, and the acquisitions at the surface, 
serve only to conceal the poverty at the foundation. The 
love of God, and of our neighbor, these two grand charac- 



THE PERFECTION OF OUR NATURE CONSIDERED. 75 

teristics of Christianity, are only infallible proofs of the 
success of education in all its different stages. They are 
themselves a beautiful and harmonious development of our 
immortal nature, and thus they have been made to form 
the principal trait of the divine model which the Gospel 
presents to the imitation of men. 

But when these sentiments are exhibited by the pupil, 
where they grow with his growth, and appear as the very 
soul of his conduct, then the progress of his mind in other 
respects should be accelerated. Education cannot give 
too much force to the various faculties of the mind. The 
most powerful of these faculties will be, in its hands, the 
best instruments for the execution of the best designs. 
And as religion and morality alone insure the purity of 
intentions, so the development of the understanding alone 
gives the hope that good intentions will be accomplished. 

This may be verified in all the conditions of life, Ed- 
ucation is doubtless obliged to recognize great differences 
of situation among men : not only does necessity force it 
to do so, but it is also reasonable, since there is in society 
a degree of perfection peculiar to each rank and condition. 
If there is an harmony to be established in the mind of 
the individual, there is one to be established between this 
individual and its destination on earth. A happy agree- 
ment of the sentiments, opinions, and tastes, Avith ha- 
bitual occupation, facilitates the observance of the duties 
and the enjoyment of the pleasures attached to each situ- 
ation. It is not then proper that the faculties be stimula- 
ted beyond the point where they find in real life a natura 
and regular exercise. From birth there is a scale of de- 
velopment suited to the various conditions of life ; but in 
the most humble conditions, education has 'always a task 
to perform : it should always give a certain degree of cul- 
tivation to the understanding. There is a primary degree 
of instruction which is the natural right of each being, 
and of which no child should be deprived, 



76 THE PERFECTION OF OUR NATURE CONSIDERED. 

For a Christian, not to know how to read that divine 
law which he believes he cannot violate without hazard- 
ing his salvation ; for a man liable to be brought before 
tribunals, to be unable to read those human laws which 
may condemn him to death ; for him who gives or receives 
promises, not to be in a situation to give them validity by 
writing ; for one who labors for wages, not to be capable 
of calculating what he has power to claim, — is to be igno- 
rant of the conditions to which existence itself is attached, 
and in some cases to be deprived of the means of perform- 
ing these conditions. These several incapacities throw 
incertitude upon human conduct in the various relations ; 
they banish security : they oblige an unfortunate being to 
grope in midnight darkness, darkness which is often peo- 
pled with phantoms: and, in depriving him of information 
necessary towards the full exercise of his reason, his jus- 
tice and his good feelings, they often destroy the effect of 
the finest endowments of nature. Indeed the state of ig- 
norance which is thought to be accompanied by innocence 
and happiness, — in the entire absence of civilization, be- 
comes daily more melancholy and more dangerous in our 
European society. 

The idea of a situation so deplorable, the common lot of 
a multitude of men who possess nothing which they can 
call their own ; this idea, I say, is a constant appeal to 
the charity of the Christian, to the solicitude of the philos- 
opher. The education of the indigent class is as impor- 
tant to the other classes as to themselves, since education 
is the only certain mean of influencing morality, and of 
ruling by the curb of duty those upon whom it is not 
always easy to impose others. And let it not be sup- 
posed that a feeble glimpse of religion, such as is some- 
times given to the ignorant, is sufficient. The incoherence 
and confusion of ideas of those unfortunate beings whose 
reason has not been exercised, invades the region of 



THE PERFECTION OF OUR NATURE CONSIDERED. 77 

religion also, causing the most dreadful superstition. 
This is but teo perfect a picture of the condition of the 
poor classes in certain countries. And, to answer by a 
single fact the objections of those who are not in favor of 
establishments for the instruction of the people, I would 
say, that in England and Scotland, the public registers 
have proved that the number and importance of crimes 
have diminished in the exact proportion of the multiplica- 
tion of schools. 

It would seem that governments, deeply interested as 
they are in the maintenance of order and prosperity in so- 
ciety, ought to be affected with these considerations ; but 
in waiting for this, the efforts of charity should not be par- 
alyzed ; individual activity can, in its sphere, produce much 
good. In elevated social positions, there is a natural 
magistracy which enlightened men can exercise. Our 
age seems already to feel it ; the duty of imparting a pri- 
mary degree of instruction to the indigent, seems already 
to be legibly inscribed upon many consciences. NeAv 
motives and new encouragements are presented for perse- 
verance in this undertaking. Before the influence of ed- 
ucation has yet penetrated the mass, it can, in the elevated 
classes, form those capable of seconding this grand motion 
of the public mind, the result of Christianity, and an ad- 
vanced civilization.* 



* No where has the truth that miseiy and vace most frequently 
proceed from ignorance, been demonstrated with so much force as 
in the writings of Dr Chalmers, the greatest religious genius of our 
church, and one of the most enlightened men of his age. The seal 
of the Christian, joined to the science of the economist, have con- 
ducted him to the true theory of the art so little known, that of re- 
lieving indigence : he has seen that the only way to succeed in 
doing this is to elevate the morals. The enemy of all abrupt change, 
he has foimd, and put in practice the means of delivering his country 



78 THE PERFECTION OF OUR NATURE CONSIDERED. 

In the superior ranks of society, the work of education 
thus becomes one of imposing grandeur. These duties, 
always sacred for the individual, assume an importance 
proportioned to the influence which he can exercise. 
There, when no defect in the character or in the mind op- 
poses itself, the entire accomplishment of the divine will 
requires the free exercise of the most elevated faculties of 
the soul. It is not only enjoined upon man to do good, 
but to do all the good possible. How will he succeed in 
doing this, without making every exertion in his power — 
without calling into action that understanding, that power 
of invention, that facility in acquiring new ideas, with 
which he has been endowed by his Creator? Talent 
should not be buried — light ought not to be put under a 
bushel ; — these are terms of the divine law.* 

Indeed, whatever species of good we desire to effect, 
knowledge is necessary. It is necessary to enable us to 
combat in this world that ever-growing principle of evil, 
immorality ; and it is necessary to enable us to relieve all 
kinds of misery; — men in the same situation, and anima- 
ted by the same zeal, will contribute to the happiness of 
their fellow-creatures in the exact proportion of their 



from the scourge of the poor taxes, the assistance of which only pro- 
duces ingratitude, and redoubles the misery of those to whom it is 
imparted. Persuaded that public charities are rarely exempt from 
inconvenience, he regards the education of the indigent, as the most 
certain and useful work of beneficence. A translation of the peri- 
odical work of Dr. Chalmers, (Christian and Civil Economy of Great 
Towns,) would be very instructive for the continent. [Ed.] 

* The passages of Scripture, which some strangely suppose con- 
tradict this clear injunction, have often been misunderstood ; they 
regard religion itself, the homage of the spirit ; they teach a great 
truth ; it is, that God should not be sought by means of eiforts, or 
subtilties of the mind, and that the way to go to him is open to all 
his creatures. [Ed.] 



THE PERFECTION OF OUR NATURE CONSIDERED. 79 

capacity. We have need of a certain expansion of mind 
to possess influence, and in order that our influence be ju- 
dicious. 

That it should be thus with thoS3 who hold the first 
stations in society, with those who move the two great 
levers in civilization, legislation and public instru tion, 
none will dispute. Neither do these obligations cease 
among those in a more private condition. The chief of a 
work-shop or of a counting-house, a great landed pr iprie- 
tor, or the father of a family, all have need of an enlight- 
ened reason to aid, console, and instruct their subordinates. 
All knowledge, all talent, extends the sphere of our power, 
gives us the means of acting upon a greater number of 
minds, and through these upon others also : thus the 
movement of one beneficent soul may be propagated and 
communicated to multitudes, along with the knowledge 
and instruction which have emanated from the same source. 

Nothing which is innocent should be withheld from the 
being whom education aspires to form. He partakes all 
interests with which the destiny of his equals is connected. 
The mechanical and mental arts, industry, agricul ure, 
commerce, all the animated movement, the varied exercise 
of human activity, will seem to him but the necessary re- 
sult of the development of our faculties. Society, with the 
different destinations of man, represents to him the soul and 
its various attributes ; it is, as it were, the relief of it ; and 
in this enlarged image of himself, the Christian also re- 
cognizes that of God. This also he seeks to rid of the 
impure alloy which corrupts it, and to restore to its prim- 
itive beauty. The task of becoming perfect, which is impos- 
ed upon him, does not seem limited to himself He exerts 
himself also for those by whom he is surrounded, but with 
wisdom ; and, availing himself of what is best in the char- 
acter of our age, he thinks that those classes of society, 
to whom Heaven has given knowledge and leisure, are 
made for the instructors of the others. 



80 THE PERFECTION OF OUR NATURE CONSIDERED. 

Such is, independently of the peculiar direction which 
the genius of the individual must determine — such is the 
disposition which education should seek to communicate, 
when no circumstances oppose it. To succeed in doing 
this, it is necessary, as I have before said, that each pupil 
possess the means and the will to continue to perfect him- 
self The means will consist in the commencement of a 
development during infancy; since the will being sup- 
posed, one degree of progress facilitates the highest ulte- 
rior progress at which we aim ; but the most essential 
point, is the formation of the will; this remains to be con- 
sidered. 



( 81 ) 



CHAPTER IV. 

INFLUENCE OF THE EDUCATION UPON THE STRENGTH 
OF THE WILL. 

" Our daily avocation, is to become stronger than ourselves." — 
Imitation of Christ. 

It is with timidity that I approach this subject ; but, 
without hoping confidently to remove the great difficulty 
of education and of life, it is of importance that we should 
examine that which meets us at every step. How shall 
we attempt to educate human beings, without examining 
the spring w^hich moves them to action? And if we can 
obtain nothing from intelligent creatures w^ithout the par- 
ticipation of their will, the smallest portion of light upon 
the means of influencing it cannot be without importance. 
It will be useless, to employ ourselves with other objects 
relative to education, if we have not at least reflected upon 
that, which deserves, before all else, to be considered. 

Will, mysterious force ! powerful endowment, wiiich 
seems alternately granted and withdrawn from man ! 
Why does it often languish inactive, and then revive again 
in our breasts? How, to a state of apathy, does it cause 
suddenly to succeed one of activity ? How, after having 
been lately tossed by the waves of our contradictory, 



82 INFLUENCE OF EDUCATION UPON THE WILL. 

ephemeral, half-formed desires, are we as a vessel driving 
before the wind, and flying across the seas and through 
tempests to the place of destination ? 

The weakness and wanderings of the will seem to be 
attached to our nature. The effects of this evil may be 
restrained and moderated, but must in some degree con- 
tinue to exist. On one side, the power of education in this 
respect is limited ; on the other, it does not make all the 
use of it which it might. Its duties here seem to be re- 
duced to three principal ones. 

To fortify the will, to exak and support it, if possible, 
where it may reign over the desires, finding in their 
strength, sometimes obstacles and sometimes aids, but nev- 
er a power Avhich subjugates it. 

Again; as the will, independently of its strength, should 
have a determined character and follow a regular course ; 
as it cannot display itself in acts without having to do 
with the inclinations of the heart ; as moreover it is cer- 
tain that we often feel it decided by the various motives 
which it "may govern, education ought, in the second place, 
to give to the pupil the sentiments, tastes, and even the 
habits, Avhich will exercise the most salutary influence 
upon the will, and which, in the moments when it is the 
least capable of eflbrt, will impress a happy direction upon 
the conduct. 

Finally; since notwithstanding the most assiduous cares, 
the weakness, the apathy, shall I say the momentary de- 
pravation of the will, is more or less clearly manifested in 
real life, the third and most essential duty of education, is 
to open to the pupil the Avay to that high source, where 
the soul can become renewed and acquire new vigor. I 
shall speak successively of these three duties. 

The will, considered with regard to its strength, inde- 
pendently of its education, receives the appellations of 
firmness, energy, and constancy. It is, as it were, the 



INFLUENCE OF EDUCATION UPON THE WILL. 83 

degree of life, the quantity of moral existence which each 
being possesses ; it is that which gives weight to his 
words, to his actions, to his very silence ; which renders 
him the object of an esteem, of a love, sometimes of a fear 
proportioned to the idea of a power which he possesses. 
What inequalities do we find in this respect among beings 
otherwise equal ? Why, without having yet put them to 
the proof, do they produce so different effects upon us ? 
Whence come those views of others which often exercise 
a" great influence over our conduct, while no distinct 
thought has revealed to us our motives ? 

Is it in the power of instructors to increase the moral 
energy of a child ? However this may be, it appears cer- 
tain that it is very easy for them to diminish it : it is per- 
haps in this respect that we commit the most faults : one 
of the most essential objects is one most neglected. Un- 
fortunately, education almost entirely tends to weaken 
firmness of character: it is most frequently, to say the 
truth, only a system of means to weaken the will. Per- 
suasive and insinuatinof, it hinders its formation : severe 
and inflexible, it causes it to bend or break. It aims at 
the contraction of good habits, and the peculiar property 
of habit is to cause actions without the concurrence of the 
will. Here education is aided by the imitative instinct 
which produces an effect similar to that of a habit. Too 
often, in order to accomplish the object, deception is re. 
sorted to — the most pernicious of all examples, not only as 
respects morality, but energy. 

Is it then that mankind do not know the value of ener- 
gy ? No, it cannot be ; for life soon shows us its impor- 
tance. Whatever may have been our actions, our feeling 
upon this point is unanimous ; — if weak, we wish the 
support of energy ; if strong, we despise one who does not 
possess it. Perhaps we in reality, value this quality above 
all others. Without it, morality seems to us only a good 



84 INFLUENCE OF EDUCATION UPON THE WILL. 

intention, which is of little value ; we feel but little admi- 
ration of devotion, when it proceeds from weakness of 
character ; and if we sometimes hesitate to pay homage to 
brilliant talents, it is because we have too often seen them 
separated from firmness of character. 

Yet, whatever may be the importance of this quality, 
the reason that instructors have not favored its develop- 
ment is very simple ; it is because they always find it an 
obstacle in education. All which they desire to give to 
the child, — knowledge, application, wisdom, generosity, 
and good manners, require the continual sacrifice of the 
will. To diminish the energy of this faculty, is so con- 
venient a course to pursue, that Ave often take it without 
thinking of doing so. Perhaps if we were aware of it, 
we should proceed in the same manner. While the wan- 
derings of the will are always to be feared, while we are 
far and very far from being certain Avith regard to the di- 
rection of it, how can we seriously labor to give it a 
strength which can only increase the danger ? 

Education should, I think, value its resources sufficient- 
ly not to fear beforehand the development of strength of 
character ; and since the government of parents or in- 
structors, as Avell as the usages of society, have necessari- 
ly a repressive influence ; since the progress of civilization 
has destroyed many sources of energy, it seems very es- 
sential to compensate for these several effects, and to give 
to the children, who are the men of the future, that nerve 
and force, of which the germ appears to have been granted 
them by the Creator. 

It is not, however, in ceasing to exhibit firmness them- 
selves, that instructors will succeed in communicating it. 
If they are weak and vacillating, they add a bad example 
to an influence equally bad, or rather to the Avant of that 
influence Avhich it is their duty to exercise. It is proper, 
if Ave may so speak, that they should submit to the 



INFLUENCE OF EDUCATION UPON THE WILL. 85 

obligation of commanding. The dominion, to which a state 
of entire helplessness submits man during infancy, is as 
indispensable to the formation of his morality, as the pres- 
ervation of his life. It is the means designed by Provi- 
dence for the development of all his qualities, including, 
among them, energy ; and the employment of this means 
has for its end, and should have for its limit, the freedom 
of the will. Education will only render man free. It 
will commit to him the government of himself, as soon as 
he, released from the subjection to blind instincts, shall 
choose what is good for an immortal soul. The distinc- 
tion between the strength of the desires and that of the 
will, Although very ancient, may with propriety be here 
considered. The will ought to govern the desires, and 
when it holds its proper elevation, we see it an absolute 
sovereign, independent of the motives, incitements, and va- 
rious solicitations which tend to subject and even enchain 
it. ' The ultimate reason of the free determinatio7is of 
• the will, ^ says a modern philosopher, ' is in itself :'' if it 
were possible to discover it elsewhere, this discovery would 
be that of universal fatality. 

Indeed, to maintain that our will is irresistibly influ- 
enced by the strength of the desires which spring from the 
heart, is to assimilate us to dead matter ; it is to impose 
upon us, from birth till death, the yoke of an imperious ne- 
cessity; it is to bid defiance to the unconquerable feeling 
which, in attesting to man his liberty, renders him respon- 
sible for his conduct* 



* The same may be said of the more noble opinion which subjects 
our will to the constant direction of the divine hand. That every 
thing depends upon God, and our liberty like the rest, who can 
doubt 1 But to affirm that we cannot at the same tim.e be free be- 
ings is to limit the power of the Creator. Without urging the dan- 
gerous consequences of this doctrine, I would say that its effect 
8 



86 INFLrENCE OF EDUCATION UPON THE WILL. 

We have to consider here, only the free and reflecting 
will, since it is this alone of which education should seek to 
augment the power. It is of little importance that some 
metaphysicians consider that there is an intervention of 
the will in the most unthought of actions of our existence, 
in those which, like respiration, are performed during 
sleep. Another word is necessary to designate the cause of 
the movements of which we are conscious, that great faculty 
of the soul which acts with knowledge and liberty, and 
feels that it had power to have determined otherwise. If 
this power of choice, which constitutes its very existence, 
and without which w^e might regard it as annihilated, 
submitted to a blind impulse, it is equally annulled as if it 
were entirely passive. 

This death, or at least this momentary paralysis of the 
will, is the lamentable effect of the tyranny of the passions, 
and the loss of the feeling of liberty is the infallible mark 
of their victory. There is no free will where the passions 
reign : there is none in that state of intoxication when man 
deliberates no longer, but allows himself to be borne along 
by the torrent of his desires, as by some external impulse. 



would be contrary to the views of the pious men, who have em- 
braced it. In declaring the absolute impotency of the will, they 
wish to show us the necessity of having recourse to celestial grace ; 
but should we always be in a state to have recourse to that, if our 
will was enchained '? The act of prayer seems voluntary^ as well 
as any other ; the accomplishment of the conditions of the divine 
covenant ought also to be so. All the exhortations of Jesus Christ 
and of the apostles suppose that we possess the power of deciding 
for ourselves ; those even of the men whom we refute also suppose 
it, so true is it that in denying our liberty, we are involved in in- 
consistency ! We must resolve to admit separately truths which are 
not irreconcilable, but which, in their application, are respectively 
modified in a manner unknown to us : such are free will and the 
influence of the Holy Spirit upon our souls. [En.] 



INFLUENCE OF EDUCATION UPON THE WILL. 87 

' O my God,' says Fenelon, ' preserve me from that fatal 
slavery, which human arrogance has dared to call liberty.' 

Such is the slavery to which, unfortunately, the child is 
subjected, who, not being directed by a steady hand, is 
given up to his own caprices. Such is the slavery which 
governs man during his whole life, when education, in 
neglecting to employ in season its most efficacious re- 
sources, has thus failed in its principal aim, that of ren- 
dering him master of himself It is nevertheless true, 
that to attain this end, it should use its power with a wise 
economy. 

It is indeed another way to enervate the will, to leave 
it constantly subjected to a foreign influence. This fault 
is also committed ; and education, in our days, in divesting 
itself of its harsh and severe forms, has not avoided this 
second rock. A mild, and even voluntary servitude, de- 
prives the soul of energy, as surely as one more rude. 

We are often deceived in this respect; the pleasure 
which the child seems to experience in obeying, encour- 
ages us : he appears free, because he is happy ; and we 
take his zeal for energy. But when the will is not self- 
determined, when it has only been made to follow, al- 
though freely, the impulse of others, we cannot calculate 
upon its stability. In this state of half subjection it can 
appear lively, ardent, and even faithful, without knowing 
the influence which is exerted ; and we cannot therefore 
draw any certain inference from it with respect to firmness 
of character. 

This is what we often see in education. To obtain the 
concurrence of the child is without doubt an important 
point. When once we have succeeded in that, the great- 
est obstacles seem levelled. The obedience has nothing 
servile ; all is performed with facility, with joy ; there is 
w^ind in the sails, and we advance rapidly. Yet we must 
not be under a mistake here. It is not in adopting the 



88 INFLUENCE OF EDUCATION UPON THE WILL. 

desires of another, that we learn to decide for ourselves ; 
and what is called a g-ood will is not always the genuine. 
A child, animated by the desire to please his parents, may 
be able to conquer the first difficulties of study ; he may 
be a model of conduct so long as he possesses the desire 
of their approbation, and yet remain without consistency or 
stability when this motive exists no longer. It is neces- 
sary for him to have learned to propose an object to him- 
self, to choose at his own risk, the best means of attaining* 
it. The free and deliberate determination, the faculty of 
foreseeing" the difficulties connected with the course we 
have taken, is what gives its stamp to the mind, and firm- 
ness to the character. 

If, then, the pupil is in future to be master of his conduct, 
it is of importance to make him follow two rules apparent- 
ly opposed to each other ; one of suhjection, in order to 
accustom him to repress his capricious desires ; the other 
of liberty, in order to form in him an independent will. 
This is a difficulty Avhich is rarely viewed in its whole 
extent ; hence (and perhaps above all in the most careful 
educations) few decided characters are developed. 

Another still greater difficulty is, that we cannot 
depend upon the aid of the pupil in correcting his defects 
which arise from want of firmness. To teach him self- 
government it would be necessary that he should possess 
the spring which Ave wish to give him ; and it is not even 
easy to make him understand what he wants. From the 
miserable apathy of a child who never has a spontaneous 
volition, and who consequently is not susceptible of any 
progress, to fainter shades of the same defect, it is of little 
use to address reproaches to those who have not received 
the active principle of moral life. 

Irresolution, one of the most ordinary symptoms of the 
weakness of the will, escapes our influence; we have no 
fixed rule to give for opposing it ; and here reasoning has 



INFLUENCE OF EDUCATION UPON THE WILL. 89 

little effect. Irresolute people reason, perhaps, but too 
much; they view all objects under a thousand different 
aspects ; they foresee a thousand different results which 
may follow any course whatever : what they need is that 
energetic direction which makes a single motive prevail 
over several ; that we may hope or fear only a single 
thing. Shall we therefore direct the pupil to determine 
without reflecting, without considering what will result 
from his decision 1 Certainly not : this is not the part ot 
reason ; she counsels entirely contrary to this, and thus 
tends to augment the defect. 

It is the same with fickleness, another defect in which 
the will is so prompt as to have the appearance of strength, 
but has none in reality, since it has no permanence. What 
can an instructor do in this case? It is not in his power 
to revive extinct tastes, and, on the other hand, it would be 
equally absurd to persist in a conduct which had for a 
motive only a desire or a sentiment which no longer ex- 
ists, and which we cannot regulate by any general rules. 
We see then that reason, which is perfectly in its place 
when the object is to bend obstinacy in opinion, is much 
less so when it is necessary to communicate stabilitj'-. 
Its resource here consists in taking advantage of circum- 
stances, that is, to prove that on the occasion in question, 
the pupil will do best to persevere. But we feel that con- 
duct thus influenced, has no security for the future. 

To favor at the same time the work of reason, and the 
development of the best faculties, it is necessary, then, as it 
appears to me, that education commence by endeavoring 
to strengthen the character, to prepare the solid ground in 
which all good principles take root and bear fruit. The 
fickleness of the child renders this enterprize difficult; 
and as we are never certain of being able to influence 
him while nothing is yet fixed in his soul, the means of 
communicating firmness seem to be wanting like firmness 
8* 



00 INFLUENCF. OF FPUCATION TPON THE WILL. 

itself. Yot wo must not drspair. In the absence of 
rational motives, there remains a less elevated, but very 
cfiieaeious resource, habit. By the habit of obedience, 
the pupil learns to repress his passions. In accustoming 
him to decitle for himself in allowable cases, he acquires 
decision, and his will, no more passive, insensibly gains 
vig-or. 

The feeling of real liberty, but limited by necessity in 
its exercise, is that with which Rousseau wished to inspire 
his Emile. So far 1 agree with him ; hut I regard duty 
as the moral necessity, and this is what Rousseau does not 
admit. He exempts the pupil from the observance of this 
law, because he does not think him in a state to judge in 
what duty consists. There is, however, one duty which 
is very well understood by the chihl, ami which ini- 
tiates hiui by degrees in the knowledge of all others; it 
is that of obedience towards those to whom Heaven has 
contided his fate. His weakness, his wants, even his in- 
stinct, naturally place him in dependence upon them. It 
belongs to them to exercise their authority with mildness 
and decision. The problem to be solved in their govern- 
ment is presented in every government. The point is, to 
reconcile the greatest individual liberty, with tlie most 
perfect submission to laws. 

For the attainment of this end, it is necessary to avoid 
orders half given, obligations partly imposed : such are 
insinuations, tacit solicitations; such is the pretence of 
leaving a child master of his conduct, while we envelop him 
with a thousand chains. The atmosphere oi' doubt dis- 
solves energy, and relaxes the nerve of intentions. When 
the limits of liberty and duty are indetinite, a degree of 
uncertainty is spread over our projects, and even our ac- 
tions ; we have always to regret the resolution which we 
have not taken ; we are always tempted to retrace our 
steps. To preserve the child, and allerwards the man, 



INFLUENCE OF EDUCATION UPON THE WILL. 91 

from such torment, it is necessary that a just authority 
preside at the commencement of life, in giving a well- 
defined course to the will. TTenco pii])lic education, in 
which we govern by inirnutahie laws without constantly 
overseeing individuals, is the most favorable to the devel- 
opment of energy. 

How far is the most exact discipline, united to the great- 
est independence, r(.'Concila])le with the sweetness of the 
relations betvvcM'u the teacher and the pupil, or between 
•the parent and child, and ihr. haljitual confidence which 
should exist between them? How far, with young girls, 
especially, is it reconcilable with that grace, that prepos- 
sessing appearance, that regard for others, in a word, that 
refinement of manners, which we require in females ? It 
is difficult to answer. Perhaps with them a strict disci- 
pline should not be for too long a time continued, but it 
must not be forgotti^n that all oth(?rs have an enfeebling 
effect. Reason founded upon observation can only indi- 
cate principles, and numberless modifications afterwards 
find their place in the application. 1 will only add here, 
that deep affections belong only to strong minds, and that 
when once the feelings of the heart and conscience are 
well developed, they of themselves dictate all the refine- 
ments of conduct. 



( 92 ) 



CHAPTER V 



IMPULSES OF THE WILL, AND THE INFLUENCE OF 

REASON. 

' Man delights in reasoning, which is his chef-d'oeuvre, and turns 
away from feeling, which is not his work ; he believes that in re- 
moving one link in the chain of mysteries he approaches to truth.' 

After having" contemplated the will in the state of 
sovereignty, which seems the most absolute, we now view 
it reduced to a condition less elevated : under this aspect, 
it will appear to us influenced, even decided, by the im- 
pulses of w^hich it has consented to follow the direction. 
It is then the various desires of the human heart, its 
instigators and responsible ministers, which we should 
blame for its wanderings. Hence the task of education, 
difficult to perform, but more easy to define, consists in 
surrounding the heart with guides which will not tend to 
lead it astray. 

Education can find here a secondary source of energy 
for the will, in the strength of the motives employed to de- 
termine it. When these motives are important, when they 
merit the approbation of conscience and of men, their in- 
fluence is often permanent, and the soul at length contracts 
habits of constancy. But if we are only concerned about 



IMPULSES OF THE WILL, &C, 93 

actions, if we wish only to cause or prevent these indi- 
vidually, we advance a thousand trifling motives, without 
ever impressing a general direction. The pupil conducts 
well, but his morality remains passive ; and we have, as 
it were, formed a character destitute of substance. Yet 
with infancy, motives only have importance. At this age, 
the future is every thing ; actual results have little value, 
and the best actions are important only as indications of 
impulses which are to be prolonged. A man may do 
good or evil, independently of his intentions : his fellow- 
creatures suffer or enjoy the consequences of his conduct, 
and they do not need to investigate the motives of it ; but 
a child, exercising no influence abroad, all the activity 
which we demand of hin>. is relative to himself; and when 
we suggest to him bad, or merely equivocal motives, we 
do him an injury for which no advantage can compen- 
sate. The nature of the motive is all with him ; the de- 
sire of learning ensures success in intellectual education, 
as does that of performing duty in the education of the 
heart. A decided resolution does not remain without ef- 
fect in youth : and the knowledge once desired, can scarce- 
ly fail of being obtained. 

But I already hear the reply of parents. We should 
prefer, they say, that our children might be moved by the 
pure love of virtue: hence we always commence by telling 
them that duty requires of them that they do or neglect to 
do a certain thing; but Ave do not see that this considera- 
tion has much effect upon them. If, on the contrary, we 
place before them some hope or fear, founded upon inter- 
ests which they better comprehend, we obtain what we 
wish of them. We employ means which of themselves 
possess activity ; w^e always give them useful habits, in 
the hope that reason will hereafter add to them good mo- 
tives. 

This language is assuredly very plausible. The plea 
is good in a desperate case : I maintain only that we give 



94 IMPULSES OF THE WILL, AND 

it up too soon. The impatience to arrive at positive re- 
sults is- such, that we choose the shortest way of doing 
this, without considering whether it is at the same time the 
best. We do not reflect sufficiently, that to act from self- 
ish motives is also a habit Avhich it is not easy to eradicate. 
The idea of duty coldly presented, has, I acknowledge, but 
little influence ; but a more profound study of the means 
of acting upon the will, may open some new route: be- 
fore pursuing a course morally bad, we should be sure 
that there is no other to choose. An excellent intention, 
and zeal to perform its duties, are not a very rare phe- 
nomenon with a child. The happy instinct of mothers, 
and certain particular circumstances, often favor such dis- 
positions, the germ of which exists in all souls : the means 
of developing them, will soon be considered in this work ; 
but here, where we are chiefly occupied Avith principles, 
the question presents itself in all its importance. A more 
exact knoAvledge of the true impulses of the will, seems 
equally necessary to education as to morality. And since, 
under a very general point of view, these impulses are the 
same with children and Avith men, if Ave AA'ould haA'e our 
knoAA'ledge founded upon obserA^ation, the surest AA^ay is 
to study Avhat passes in our oaa^u heart, an object of exam- 
ination ahvays present and suited to our purposes. 

Yet, Avhat AA'e experience is not easy to unfold; the 
springs of our actions are concealed from our oaa-u eyes. 
Our determinations are more quickly taken than their 
motiA'-es are discovered, and those AA'hich Ave assign to 
them are not ahvays the true ones. Subjected to the ne- 
cessity of reasoning, as soon as our mind, reflecting upon 
itself, AA'Ould judge of our internal state, AA^e are probably 
inclined to exaggerate the poAver of reason OA'er us. Too 
great faith in its influence upon morality, is perhaps the 
error of an age, proud of the light Avhich reason has dif- 
fused OA'cr a thousand objects. 



THE INFLUENCE OF REASON. 95 

It is in general agreeable to us to believe that we act 
upon rational principles ; to establish these principles, to 
apply them to our particular situation, and to prove that 
our life is conformed to them, is the chain which we con- 
stantly seek to form. This chain is not difficult ; but it is 
not so with the delicate thread which binds our actions to 
our sentiments. The influence of our secret instincts, of 
tastes, antipathies, dislikes, of the good or bad desires 
which animate us, it is difficult to seize, often embarrassing 
to acknowledge ; and yet these emotions of the soul are 
the unknown source of the greater part of our decisions. 

It is easy for us to observe this with others. We see 
plainly that our friends are determined by that mass of im- 
pressions and sentiments which seem often to make up the 
character ; but no person believes himself to follow any 
other guide than reason. We seek, therefore, to find how 
the course which we have taken accords with our rule. 
Our pretended motives are invented after our acts : the 
genera] principles with which we intend our conduct shall 
agree, appear to us to have been the foundation : and we 
take for the cause of our decisions, what is only the 
apology. Other maxims present themselves as soon as we 
have occasion to change, and there are always eternal 
truths to support our passing resolutions. 

What are we to understand by the word reason ? In 
the extended sense which philosophy has given to it, we 
employ it to express understanding, that great faculty of 
the soul by which we discover truth. Taken in a more 
limited sense, it is applied to the conduct of life, and con- 
tinues to retain its first signification. Reason, also, as it is 
commonly considered, decides upon the relation of effects 
to causes, deduces consequences from principles, and pro- 
nounces relatively to the individual, upon the advantages 
or inexpediency of actions. Elevated above the inequali- 
ties and weaknesses common to humanity, we may consider 



96 IMPULSES OF THE WILL, AND 

it as the wise counsellor, who, in the government of our- 
selves, endeavors to maintain an equilibrium between our 
different powers. If it finds itself supported by exalted 
principles, it takes a very elevated character. United to 
religion, it may become the lofty wisdom which compre- 
hends our internal interests ; confined to the moral world, 
it draws from the constitution of society, practical rules 
for our conduct. Indeed whatever principle we admit, 
and whatever feeling animates us, this governs, in the 
calculation of the consequences which we are to experi- 
ence from them. Incapable of creating our various incli- 
nations, it only teaches us to direct those which exist. It 
is then a regulator, and not an impulse. This alone shows 
the kind and limits of its power. 

When reason considers man in the abstract, it supposes 
him endowed with the most noble qualities, and conse- 
quently points out to him the greatest happiness to which 
he can aspire. From this fact arise the admirable pre- 
cepts which the wisdom of all nations has collected ; but 
when reason addresses herself to the individual, she does 
not find in him all the faculties equally developed : some 
are languishing, others have an excessive activity ; and as 
she can only appeal to those which already possess a cer- 
tain degree of life, there remain to her few general rules 
to give. 

• Yet the influence of reason is always salutary; it takes 
the future into the account ; it forms a union among the 
weak sentiments, in order to subdue the more violent ; it 
says to a creditor irritated by the continued delays of his 
debtor, — If you cause this man to be imprisoned, you will 
feel pity at the distress you will occasion his family, and 
the world will condemn your excessive severity. These 
considerations may be perfectly just ; but why has reason 
produced an effect in presenting them ? It is because it 
has found compassion and the fear of blame ; otherwise it 
would have had no influence. 



THE INFLUENCE OF REASON. 97 

Such is the part of reason. Its skill consists in balanc- 
ing the desires, the one class by another ; its resource is 
the action of opposing forces. Possessing of itself no 
power, and acting but by the aid of the very feelings which 
it is sometimes called to oppose, if it finds in the soul noth- 
ing to which favors its influence, it loses all its efficacy. 
When this is the case, there is no foundation in the char- 
acter either for mo'ality or true happiness. 

Education cannot therefore attend too soon to the estab- 
lishment of impulses ; it should direct the development 
of the various faculties which act upon that sensible part 
of the soul from which the desires spring, and where de- 
cisions are formed. There are impulses of various kinds, 
which it is useful to distinguish. Some more particularly 
named instincts, watch over the preservation of our mate- 
rial existence ; others, not less selfish, but more nearly 
allied to morality, are stationed to guard that part of our 
happiness which depends upon the opinion of men. Such 
are self-love and its various modifications. Others, more 
elevated, as the feelings of justice, truth, and beauty, in- 
troduce the soul into the calm regions where it is purified, 
enlightened, and enlarged. There are others more im- 
petuous, which seem to transport our existence out of it- 
self, to place it among objects foreign to us, and cause us 
to live in other souls ; such are the tender affections, 
which from sympathy, their weakest shade, to the complete 
devotion of love, cause us to experience for our fellow- 
creatures, emotions as vivid as those which have self for 
their object. Finally, there exists one impulse which 
combines all the others possess that is great, tender, or 
devoted, which elevates the soul, not only above its proper 
sphere, but the world itself, and gives it a foretaste of eter- 
nity. This, I need not to say, is the religious sentiment. 

This inequality in the moral value of the impulses of 

the human heart prescribes to us the course we should 
9 



98 iMri'LSEs OF rjii: uii.i., and 

pursue. It is the more essential for education to cultivate 
the disinterested and i^enerous I'eelinijs, as these alone re- 
quire culture. The seltish desires and physical instincts 
grow without care; they are even indestructible It" then 
you do not strengthen those which balance tlunn. you not 
only cease to make any proi^ress towards i;ot)d, but you 
deprive reason of the oroatest force which she can oppose 
to unreasonable desires. Do we not see that the passions 
are un^oviunable in seltish hearts? This is what we do 
not, perhaj^, sutiiciently consider. 

Thus each state of morality and oi' feeling's corresponds 
with man to the iilea oi' a certain kind oi' happiness; and 
his reason, linvited by this state, can indicate to him noth- 
ing beyond. Extol to some beings the beauties of nature, 
the charms of study, of friendship, of domestic life, and 
your voice will resound in the dt^sert of his heart. If the 
effects of eloquence are transient, it is because it has only 
roused dormant impulses which very si>on sink to their 
former state ; having never been called into action, they 
are not there connected with the permanent interests of 
life. 

Confmeil to a sphere, yet reason does her best; what 
more couhl we w ish .^ Ask oi' her to regulate interests 
purely material, she w ill counsc>l to prudence: she will 
tell you to abuse nothing, to preserve your health, your 
fortune, and will make of you one of those people whom 
Socrates ridicules in the IMu'dore, in saying that they 
were temperate by intemperance. Seeking to make us 
avoid dangers, she will encourage the observance of 
the social laws, since we cannot neglect these without 
exposing ourselves; and. without having the motive of 
hope to give us. she will h.ave at least at her disposal a lib- 
eral supply of threats. 

Where reason does not tind itself Ixised upon lofty prin- 
ciples, it preaches the morality oi' consequences; it leads 



Tin: im'H)KN(;f, of kkason. 99 

us to view the results of our actions more than their mo- 
tives, and shows that vice produces evil, instead of leading 
us to regard it as itself an evil. It thus enters again into 
the system of utility, the master-piece of its most ingenious 
combinations, insufficient, like itself, for its own ends, and 
without value in improving the heart. It undoubtedly 
possesses a repressive principle, but a force which can 
only be employed to restrain is often insufficient even for 
that, it is necessary to have the power of opposing one 
emotion to another, the sallies of good feelings to those 
of bad desires; for if the simple barrier of duty only is 
opposed to them, the violent passions too often overleap it. 
That reason is indispensable in life, that without it we 
could not take one step, that it is necessary to govern the 
inclinations, or to direct them, I readily admit. I say 
further, that, in a very extended point of view, we see that 
it has some power over the formation of sentiments ; but 
it is an influence slow and indirect. In frequently re- 
pressing excess, it deprives in the bad inclinations of exer- 
cise in the same proportion, and may in time extinguish 
them. There is implanted within us a principle of de- 
velopment, a vitality, which, restrained in one direction, 
is borne in another ; and even the feeling of selfishness 
cannot for a long time remain stationary in the human 
heart. The character of the same generation changes 
little ; but what one does by (calculation, another docs by 
impulse. The religious and disinterested feelings spring 
up, and facilitate in their turn the work of reason. She 
then causes a prevalence of truths which have long re- 
mained dormant, and which assume a rank in society, as 
soon as public sentiment accords with them ; and when 
these truths are expressed in actions, when they influence 
manners, and institutions arc consecrated to them, their 
real value appears, in the production of national intelli- 
gence and virtue. 



100 IMPULSES OF THE WILL, AND 

But it is the correspondent development of feelings and 
intelligence, which produces these happy results, and these 
can be but little appreciated at a distance. Ages and peo- 
ple must be placed in the balance, in order to perceive, the 
weight which reason has given to them. When she has 
not time to act, when her action is confined within the 
narrow sphere of the mind of a single man, her influence 
must be very limited ; — in order to produce great effects 
upon communities, reason must have a simultaneous ac- 
tion upon many minds. 

On all sides we discover our limits : this is what I 
propose to show. The emotions are impetuous, blind, 
subject to various excitements ; but they are the living 
forces of the soul. Let us cultivate them in our children, 
along with the intellectual powers ; let us never leave 
them without nourishment in the heart, or without ex- 
ercise in the life, and let us not repose upon reason 
alone. We believe that the greater part of the evils of 
this age may be attributed to that systematic personality, 
which leaves individuals without energy, as well as the 
political body without vigor. When one is attached to 
nothing, it is well for him to be attached to himself Self- 
ishness is only a more severe word to express indifl^er- 
ence to others ; its natural effect is to neutralize all other 
loves. 

In general, the fault of education is rather negative 
than positive ; it is in what we neglect, rather than in what 
we do. During a long course of instruction where all is 
passive with the child, without understanding the nature 
of the mind, there is danger that its fair proportions will 
be irrecoverably altered. The memory and reasoning 
powers are too often exercised alone, and the feelings 
are neglected, excepting self-love, which is excited as a 
stimulant. What may we expect will be the result of such 
a course ? Exactly what we may observe with gro^vn 



THE INFLUENCE OF REASON. 101 

people, a great want of disinterested motives, and an ever- 
increasing preponderance of those which are sensual or 
selfish : such cannot fail to be displayed sooner or later. 
A will, feeble for what is good, ardent and skilful for 
every other object, thus becomes a necessary consequence. 



( 102 ) 



CHAPTER VI. 

INFLUENCE OF THE RELIGIOUS SENTIMENT UPON THE 

WILL. 

"The feelinn^ of human weakness sustained by divine assistance, 
constitutes the character of the true Christian." — Cellerier. 

In exposing some of the faults of education, I am far, 
from attributing to a want of care the various imperfec- 
tions of the will. The evil is probably too deep-rooted in 
our nature for us entirely to remedy. 

It is not in the province of morality alone that the per- 
version inherent to this faculty manifests itself We every 
where meet with it, and even in the direction of our near- 
est interests. What man is there who, in the direction of 
his health, of his fortune, or of his family, will never ac- 
cuse himself of negligence; or who does not some- 
times think he has not acted according to the dictates of a 
clear-sighted prudence? Whence does it arise that this 
reproach is almost always well-founded? Why, under 
the most favorable suppositions, when our judgment is cor- 
rect, when our feeling speaks aloud to us, as in the case of 
our children and ourselves, why are we constantly sub- 
ject to apathy, or to some moral evil, still more serious ? 

To account for it, it is necessary to allow a secret dis- 
order, a concealed source of irregularity attached to the 



INFLUENCE OF THE RELIGIOUS SENTIMENT. 103 

exercise of the will. Yet we usually believe it better to 
deny this truth : we exalt our power over ourselves in 
order to give us this power ; but the means are ineffica- 
cious, as experience proves. All that is necessary, we 
say, is to will. Kvcry one can accomplish what he icills; 
fine maxims and just ones, in a certain degree, good per- 
haps to obtain a sudden determination which we cannot 
retract, but without habitual influence. It is out of our 
power always to will, as well as always to will that which 
is good, and we must not treat lightly a difficulty under 
which human nature too often sinks. 

What is our condition when left to ourselves % On one 
side, emotions the very life of the soul, powers without 
which man is nothing ; but these feelings are subject to a 
fatal intoxication, and therefore susceptible of becoming 
our greatest enemies : these are our impulses. On the 
other side, reason, powerful when exercised without our- 
selves, but weak and timid when it is directed within ; 
because it is dependent on that very state of morality, 
which it is to govern : this is our regulator. 

Is it then astonishing, without supposing a degree of 
energy, which nature and education rarely combine to de- 
velop, — is it, I say, astonishing, that the will is inconstant 
in its infliuence? that it is inactive and insensible in the 
absence of emotions ; inconstant and vehement when they 
oppose it ; violent, obstinate, even depraved and liable to 
precipitate us to ruin, when subject to some bad passion ? 
Conscience, it is true, gives us advice conformed to the 
best morality, but we often stifle its voice, and refuse to 
listen to it : the means of rendering us attentive to it are 
precisely what we seek. 

In thus tracing the evil to its root, in viewing the ex- 
tent to which it has aflected the very principle of our ac- 
tions, viz. the will, we seem to be left without hope. But 
divine goodness has not left us without a resource. 



104 INFLUENCE OF THE 

Among- the emotions, the most powerful agents of the 
soul, there is one more pure, more nohle, more closely 
connected with morality than the others, — the religious 
sentiment. This, finding nothing on earth sufficient to 
satisfy it, seeks assistance from above. It interrogates, it 
implores all nature, and every where it hears a secret 
voice which seems to answer to its appeal. This instinct 
left to itself, would doubtless wander but too often ; but it 
is not in false paths that w'e are called to contemplate its 
progress. We shall consider it as it always may be 
developed by an enlightened education : and since man 
must possess impulses, since reason once formed will only 
be exercised over the passions, since she assumes her 
most lofty character only when she finds noble inclina- 
tions to reign in the soul, it is important to show that the 
religious sentiment is the only one Avhich can give a hap- 
py impulse to the moral life. 

But the field here becomes so vast, that I hesitate to 
survey it. Religious feeling joined to Christian faith, and 
finding in the word of God its rule and its director, is a 
source of moral virtue so abundant that I cannot speak of 
it in detail. I shall, departing in a degree from my sub- 
ject, the original impotence of the will, consider religious 
feeling in one of its most striking peculiarities, that is the 
access which it procures us to a superior power. 

The defect of systems where some good principle of 
our nature is considered as the basis of all morality, is in 
general to offer resources Avhich fail when they are most 
needed. The endowments of the soul are indeed all that 
we have at command. Nothing foreign to our heart can 
affect us ; but a principle which should belong to our in- 
timate constitution, would impress upon the soul an influ- 
ence the more salutary as it would raise it from despon- 
dency when it had despaired of its own powers. We are 
told to depend entirely upon our own resources, when we 



RELIGIOUS SENTIMENT UPON THE WILL. 105 

are not confident that we possess any. We are pointed 
to reason, when we are not rational ; we are referred to 
virtue, when it is virtue which is feeble. As soon as a 
desire is felt with that ardor and intensity which gives it 
the name of passion, one single idea alone occupies us. 
It pursues and besets us ; it plunges us into a fearful 
dream. All the proportions of our moral nature are 
changed ; all our feelings betray us ; even those which 
should defend us range themselves upon the strongest 
side. Our opinions deceive us. The excitement of pas- 
sion leads us to see generosity, greatness, more ability to 
do good in a new extension of our existence, and the shade 
of a false virtue contributes still to make us stray. How 
can we know ourselves while a prey to such infatuation? 
Where can a safe asylum be found in a heart already se- 
duced from rectitude ? Is not some fulcrum such as Ar- 
chimedes required to move the world, necessary to raise 
the soul from such a state ? What then is to be done 
when we feel indifferent to what is good 1 What is to be 
done when we no longer experience the good resolutions of 
our youth, when we have even no fear of the consequences 
of our moral abasement? What shall we do, if, after vain 
efforts, our wearied soul remains subject to a fatal passion, 
which nothing within us is sufficient to balance? I say, 
with a deep conviction for such a situation, which is, alas ! 
too frequent, the only resource is religion. 

Let us then prostrate ourselves at the feet of the Su- 
preme Being ; let us plunge into that immensity of conso- 
lation and succor; let us draw from the source of life; 
let us do this, and virtue will revive in our heart. An 
eternal instinct, the very bias of our soul, the desire of 
our excellence, of order, of grandeur : the harmony of 
the universe which gives us the idea of its Creator ; all 
tend to dissipate a fatal intoxication, and to cause a purer 
day to illuminate our spirit. When we give ourselves 



106 INFLUENCE OF THE 

up to these influences, the calmness of celestial regions 
seems to diffuse itself around us : a deep and solemn im- 
pression announces to us a new state, a state at the same 
time humble and sublime, in Avhich the will submits, the 
intentions are purified ; Avhere we are willing to give the 
future to the disposal of God, and where his holy law 
seems to be engraven on our hearts. Prayer, the sacred 
refuge where our passions dare not follow us, the source 
whence the life of the soul is restored — prayer has over our 
heart a powerful influence, and he who has not felt it, has 
not invoked God with perseverance or faith. 

' Enslaved by our passions,^ says Rousseau, ' we are 
made free by prayer.'' Never did a more just expression 
proceed from a mind less aware of the force of what he 
uttered. When we are not in a situation to resist our in- 
ordinate inclinations, we can weaken them by prayer ; this 
is but the same truth in other terms. 

The child may soon feel the habitual need of commu- 
ning with God, of imploring him in his troubles, of sub- 
mitting to him his desires, of examining before him his 
past conduct, and his future projects, of imploring of him 
strength to enable him to persevere in good and to re- 
nounce evil. The more he examines his intentions in 
the presence of the perfect Being, the more will his mo- 
rality be formed ; the better will he discern his least 
faults, and the more will the restoring power of repentance 
and love purify his heart. Such is the direction which 
education can produce ; such the energetic impulse which 
may thwart Avithout annihilating the alternations of the 
will. But how shall we prevent the recurrence of these 
alternations, or inequality in love to God, in obedience to 
his holy law % how shall we preserve the pupil from these 
sad variations which seem to be the inevitable lot of hu- 
man beings ? The weakness of intentions is soon ren- 
dered sensible in actions. The more delicate is the 



RELIGIOUS SENTIMENT UPON THE WILL. 107 

conscience, the more will it perceive, the more will it be 
appalled with what it must upbraid itself for. The fear 
of having offended the Supreme Judge, joined most fre- 
quently to the wretched consequences of sin, may plunge 
the guilty soul into discouragement, and despair, may 
even lead him into the most deplorable wanderings, as 
the history of false religions proves but too true : it is then 
essential that the means of elevating the will during the 
whole life, be as efficacious as that of deciding it at the 
commencement. Here is the triumph of Christianity. 

In this important respect the peculiar character of our 
holy religion is shown in all its splendor. It is its pecu- 
liar object to alleviate our miseries, to save us from sin, 
the greatest of all evils. Its law, (and how can we fail of 
recognizing in this feature, its Divinity?) its law is at 
the same time rigid and compassionate ; we always dis- 
cover through its mysteries the union of justice and mer- 
cy ; and in the bloody sacrifice of the Saviour of the world, 
truth becomes a sublime symbol to announce to guilty 
man, the pardon granted through faith and repentance. 

Indeed, if w^e view our religion in relation to its_ influ- 
ence within us, we shall see that its morality, the most 
scrupulous of all before the commission of offences, is the 
least productive of despair, after them. In reading the 
writings of mere moralists, we find in them the marks of 
a certain cold severity. Like society, whose interests they 
take in hand, they grant no pardon to the guilty, and trust 
little to their repentance. Feeling that they offer no pow- 
erful means of regeneration, they believe that the best 
man has a necessary progression to evil ; they ascribe all 
evils to some false direction taken in infancy, and, attribu- 
ting an exaggerated importance to first impressions, they 
are inclined with Paley to regard man as a bundle of 
habits. 

Man is not, however, entirely made up of habits ; he 
possesses a principle of life, a restoring principle; but the 



108 INFLUENCE OF THE 

Christian religion alone can communicate activity to it, 
because this only has in its power at all times that which 
puts this principle in play, Hope. This only has hope for 
the guilty as well as for the dying. It takes man as it 
finds him, innocent or criminal, young or old, honored or 
despised of others, and always sustains or elevates him, 
always possesses motives to improvement to offer him. 
It is because the principle of Christianity is sufficiently 
powerful to form habits, and to break them off, to avail it- 
self of the influence of time, and to conquer that influence, 
that it possesses a peculiar and inestimable advantage in 
the government of the whole life. 

I am ready to allow that the love of virtue may exist in 
lofty souls without any distinct idea of religion. Like 
talent and genius, this noble ardor is a gift from above; 
there are in moral as well as in physical nature sublime 
works of God ; but without speaking of the hopes, the 
consolations, even the degree of perfection of which virtu- 
ous men who remain strangers to piety, are always de- 
prived, so that they still lack the most noble of our attri- 
butes, I would say, that it is not our object to consider 
these. Innate qualities are out of the question. What 
education seeks, at least with respect to the present life, 
is to revive the germ of virtues which would not naturally 
be developed. 

On the other hand, there is a more extensive class of 
beings, who, without being acted upon by strong impulses, 
avoid great excesses. As temptations are not always 
strong, negative merit is so common that there is a proba- 
bility of being able to obtain it ; if our tenderness, and solici- 
tude for our children are moderate, if we reflect but little 
upon their fate in eternity ; we shall limit our ambition 
for them to a similar situation. A thousand different mo- 
tives may combine to direct persons of good sense to a 
course of decent morality. The world, opinion, immediate 



RELIGIOUS SENTIMENT UPON THE WILL. 109 

personal interest are restraints upon them. But the de- 
sire, the constant necessity of perfection felt in the inmost 
soul, the firm intention of pursuing it, whatever may be 
the outward discouragements, such feelings, and such an 
intention, cannot, it seems to me, be founded upon a mere 
moral emotion. The progressive improvement of the 
heart, in my opinion, requires a religious influence. De- 
pending upon more assiduous cares than simple morality 
requires, the progress of the heart shrinks from observa- 
tion. He who wishes above every thing else to rectify 
his secret motives, will often abstain from some action 
which appears to be good, if he perceives it would lead to 
evil ; he must then renounce the approbation of men ; and 
yet if he had only to do with himself, he would be liable 
to remissness in duty. Should we be sure to persevere in 
a long and difficult enterprize, if self only was considered? 
And would pretexts be wanting when we came to be wea- 
ry of sacrifices which would have self alone for their 
judge and object. 

God only is at the same time within and without our- 
selves: within, to witness our efforts, our motives, our 
least thoughts ; without, that we may adore, supplicate, 
and fear him; that all lofty moral ideas, the objects of our 
veneration, exist in a sensible being, who sees, encourages 
and pities us. God is wisdom, living, animated; a wisdom, 
which feels love and inspires it. Perfection and moral 
beauty have in him an individual existence ; they speak 
to our heart and communicate with us. The necessity of 
placing ourselves in harmony with the object of our devo- 
tion, which is so imperious for those who love, becomes a 
motive for constant improvement. We feel that the vi- 
cious impulses of our soul are the obstacle that separates 
us from God, and henceforth that obstacle diminishes. 
We are penetrated by a salutary influence. When to the 
idea of the most holy God is joined that of the reconciled 
10 



110 INFLUENCE OF THE 

God, the God who pardons our offences ; then what is 
most lofty in contemplation, most tender in gratitude, con- 
sumes, dissolves, so to speak, the mass of evil in our heart, 
and the will regenerated becomes swallowed up in the 
eternal source of all goodness. 

It is thus that religion and morality reciprocally sup- 
port and serve each other; being alternately the means 
and the end. If we may judge of the designs of God, it 
would seem that the moral development of man, or the 
perfecting of his free will, is the design of his Creator in 
placing him in this world, and that if he has not formed 
him perfect, it is because, wishing to have him in a state of 
progression, it was necessary that he should have perfec- 
tion in view. Considering man in his character of hu- 
manity, it appears that religion, or the union of the soul 
with God in time and eternity, should be the great object 
of his pursuit, and that the exact observance of the divine 
law, which is at the same time the moral law, is the 
course by which to attain this end. When these attempts 
are the effect of love to God ; then he will be constantly ad- 
vancing; but, far from boasting of his progress, he scarcely 
perceives it — so inferior does he still remain to' the 
model before him. 

The instructor is, with regard to the child, what Provi- 
dence is with regard to man ; he desires his present and 
future good, that of his immortal soul ; and he studies, as 
far as he is able, the designs of God, in order to conform 
his views to them. In attempting to exhibit the progress 
of thought in the mind of the instructor, we shall give the 
summary of our principles. 

Supported on one side by the authority of Christianity, 
and upon the other by that of conscience, the instructor 
dares to pronounce that the object of man in this life 
should not be merely happiness. The law of our nature, 
which inclines us to enjoyment, seems to him that of our 



RELIGIOUS SENTIMENT UPON THE WILL, 111 

iblind instincts, of the physical power which influences us 
during- the slumber of the will. To give predominancy 
to the law of the soul, to the law which impels moral feel- 
ing and all the intellectual faculties towards perfection, 
each one in its destined degree, is the task which the en- 
lightened and virtuous instructor prescribes to himself in 
education. 

In examining how the idea of perfection is formed in 
the soul, he finds that it consists of two elements ; the one 
is regularity, which produces in us the love of order, — the 
other, beauty, ^vhich gives rise to admiration. In the 
sphere of morality, regularity is only the observance of 
the law of duty ; while beauty, as the most sublime exam- 
ples combine to prove, presents especially the character of 
devotion ; and since God is the only object of devotion, to 
whom we owe the performance of all our duties, Ave should 
consecrate ourselves to God, that is to say, to real, living 
holiness ; to that God 'who, bearing our own nature, is of- 
fered to us in the Gospel as himself the example of devo* 
tion, and the highest degree of perfection. 

Yet the instructor should measure the extension of his 
plan upon the possibility of executing it. If he takes the 
best possible advantage of the unequal faculties of the indi- 
vidual, the result, although it may lack brilliancy, will al- 
ways present harmony and originality of structure united 
to beaut]^ of foundation. But to the end that order may 
reign in the breast of man, all partial progress should be 
prevented if it causes a loss of that moral and religious 
development, which is truly that of the soul. On the 
contrary, when nothing in external circumstances or in" 
character is opposed to it, education may take the most 
lofty flight, and favor the growth of all the faculties ; secure 
that they will take a happy direction. 

Such are the views of the instructor ; but how can he 
succeed in the execution of any design, if he cannot rely 



112 INFLUENCE OF THE 

upon the aid of the pupil ? What course shall he take to 
form and direct the will, a faculty irregular in its exercise, 
and which seems to be subject to no law ? Without well 
understanding its nature, he observes at first that the will 
is generally deficient in strength. Often incapable of 
performing its noblest employment, that of reigning over 
the desires of the heart, it still sustains the yoke of a for- 
eign influence. These tw^o kinds of weakness seem to 
him to require two opposite rules. That the child may 
be accustomed to repress his passions, it is important to 
subject him to a strict discipline ; in order that he may 
learn to form his own decisions, it is necessary to render 
him in many respects independent. It does not, however, 
seem impossible to him to put this double system in ope- 
ration. The empire of law and that of liberty, subsists 
peaceably together, when their respective limits are dis- 
tinctly traced. 

But how shall he succeed in governing the will which 
he wishes to render energetic ? What, with regard to it, 
is the power of reason upon which we ordinarily found so 
many hopes ? In examining this question narrowly, the 
teacher perceives that reason can cause no other power to 
prevail in the heart than that of the inclinations which it 
finds already formed there. He sees it to be a regulator, 
and not an impulse ; and feels the consequent necessity of 
cultivating disinterested feelings with the child, which 
only are able to balance the impetuosity of selfish instincts. 
The inaction of the heart, during the continuance of an ed- 
ucation too exclusively intellectual, seems to him accord- 
ingly at the same time to favor selfishness, and to leave 
the passions without a counterpoise. 

This leads him to feel the importance of religion. Does 
he wish to give decision to the will 1 the religious senti- 
ment is a powerful and universal impulse, deeply rooted 
in our nature, and tending more than any other towards 



RELIGIOUS SENTIMENT UPON THE WILL, 113 

good. Does he wish to repress it ? Christian morality 
is more pure, more strict, and still more adapted to the 
wants of humanity than philosophical morality, since the 
whole system of our duties may be understood by the 
mind, while we feel no desire to practise them. But what 
particularly distinguishes religion, what displays its di- 
vine energy, is the power which it has to regenerate the 
heart. The pardon upon which faith dares to calculate, 
is the only source of hope which reanimates the soul, 
-borne down under the weight of its transgressions ; and 
as a tender conscience incessantly loads itself with re- 
proaches, the benefit of this pardon extends to every one. 
A way always open, an object , always in view, and yet 
never attained ; this is what Christianity presents. Among 
those who embrace other doctrines, there are doubtless 
moral men ; but are there any but Christians who labor 
seriously for their own spiritual improvement? 

Whatever path the teacher pursues, he is constantly 
brought to the point where all paths meet. God, the first 
cause in the universe, the focus from whence the soul ema- 
nates; God is the object tow^ards whom education, which 
includes all the relations of man, ought to be directed. 
Yet, in referring things connected with our earthly rela- 
tions to this centre, education would by no means leave 
them to be neglected. Its ultimate end is the life to come; 
but its proximate object, that which it seeks immediately 
to attain, is the happy conduct of the present life. The 
order of the universe is the object of its instruction; and 
it not only teaches a knowledge of the world, but admira- 
tion of it, in showing that all it contains, which is grand and 
pure, is of divine institution. It encourages innocent en- 
jo^onents, knowledge, the general elevation of the faculties ; 
and would repress such emotions as are dangerous, and 
unsuited to the nature of infancy- 
10* 



114 INFLUENCE OF THE RELIGIOUS SENTIMENT. 

Eager to discover the indications of Providence, judi- 
cious teachers respect and cherish the peculiar spirit of 
each age ; they know how to take advantage of it and to 
give it the proper direction. We would not view with a 
gloomy mistrust the various influences to which the pupil 
must be exposed in order to acquire knowledge, when we 
consider the present Avorld as the school where the soul 
is to be formed, where it is to learn to fill hereafter a su- 
perior destiny. In the hope that ' all things shall work 
together for good to them that love God,'* we would not 
be immoderately disquieted to see commence in youth 
those struggles and trials, Avhich give firmness to the 
character, and test the value of principles. At this period 
mingled sentiments of good and evil, passing emotions oft- 
en excited by frivolous causes, are occasions of the devel- 
opment of the mind, like the vicissitudes of temperature 
on vegetation, which nourish the precious germs, and 
give motion to the sap. Then the infinite variety of 
things in the world, so many objects at the same time 
innocent and full of interest, seem, designed to excite with- 
in us an equal variety of impressions, to wake those 
chords destined by their Creator to vibrate : should but 
one of these chords remain silent, the soul, like an untuned 
lyre, may be unable to unite its strains to the celestial 
harmony of eternity. 

To sanctify human life, to discover and put in action 
the treasures which] the Divine hand has deposited in the 
heart of man, seems to be the part of education. 

* Romans viii. 28. 



BOOK SECOND. 



CHAPTER I. 

THE MEANS OF PERFECTING THE ART OF EDUCATION. 

' When one perfect being shall have tanght another, then shall 
we know what are the limits of the power of education.'— Kant. 

Education, says a celebrated philosopher, is an art, 
since nature has not in respect to it given instinct that 
could serve to guide us. That instinct has been refused 
to us in relation to this subject does not admit of a doubt. 
While the brute creation have always the same manner 
of bringing up their young, man alone is destitute of any 
peculiar method. How many different customs do we 
find existing among savage people ! Some plunge their 
children, as soon as they are born, in cold water ; others 
press the head between boards ; others suspend them in 
their cradles to the branches of trees, and thus abandon 
them ; and others bind them tightly in narrow bandages. 
The most universal sentiment of nature, that of mothers 
for their offspring, has been permitted to introduce and 
sustain a muUiplicity of barbarous customs, and even love 
itself has sanctioned them. 



116 MEANS OF PERFECTING EDUCATION. 

Civilized people have reflected more, and nothing so 
revolting is found among them. They have not succeed- 
ed, however, in reducing the theory of education to any 
fixed principles. Towards the middle of the past century 
attention to this subject very rapidly increased, and the 
extreme importance of it began to be felt. The best 
minds, as well as the most eloquent writers, have become 
interested in it; but the more they have reasoned, the 
less it would seem they have been listened to. In Ger- 
many, where under the name of Pedagogy, the learned 
have wished to make education a true science, teachers 
are all at Avar arhong themselves. Each one has a sys- 
tem differing from that of his fellow — each method has in 
turn been blamed and justified. Authority, emulation, 
punishment, and reward — severity and indulgence, rigid 
rules, and the absence of rule, have each had their parti- 
zans and detractors. What shall I say then of public and 
private education ; of methods of teaching ; of the distri- 
bution of studies ; and of their principal object 1 Almost 
all these are yet questions of debate. The paternal feeling 
has certainly always existed in the human race, and there 
is much reasoning about it at the present day. What is 
then Avanting for the advancement of the art of Education? 
It needs that experience should be much more consulted ; 
it needs those numerous and minute observations w^hich 
alone can give to it a solid and reasonable foundation. 

In works of the first distinction, where what is express- 
ed makes us regret still more that which is passed in si- 
lence — Mr. Edgeworth and his daughter hav^e already 
said that education was an experimental science. Nev- 
ertheless, they have published the result of their observa- 
tions, rather than the observations themselves. Who 
does not know, however, that we may draw different con- 
clusions from the same facts ? Who does not know that 
when one labors for science, he should exhibit the basis 



MEANS OF PERFECTING EDUCATION. 117 

upon which he founds his resuhs ? And, indeed, what is 
the experience of one family, even though it be a family 
of such rare endowments ? 

It seems to me astonishing" that, while the science of 
Astronomy has been cultivated with a perseverance so 
admirable, mankind have never studied infancy methodi- 
cally. The most important of all problems, is perhaps 
that which has been least regarded with constant and 
rigorous attention. How many men are there who, with 
their telescopes, night and day, confirm the predictions of 
astronomers ! How many others who keep an exact 
register of the wind, of the heat, and of the rain ! How 
many indefatigable commentators ! And in this number 
there is not found one father who has thought it worth 
his while carefully to note the progress of his own child ! 
Even in the physical part, which it seems must needs fall 
more immediately under the inspection of the learned, 
how much uncertainty exists ! Some practices, evidently 
pernicious, have been excluded, and this is undoubtedly a 
first step. They know better what it is necessary to 
avoid — but are they sure what they ought to do ? Have 
they ever determined precisely the influence of the first 
nourishment which is given to children ? Do they know 
if there is any reason in the prejudice which declares the 
mringling of different kinds of milk to be pernicious ? Do 
they know even the effect of these kinds of milk, taken 
separately? Aulu-Gelle has said that kids nourished by 
sheep, have the softest hair ; and that lambs nursed by 
goats, have the harshest wool : but has this fact been as- 
certained ? 

After such indifference, we ought not to be astonished, 
that more complicated questions have not been resolved 
by means of observation. It may be asked if it is expedi- 
ent to subject children to the empire of physical habits, 
or if, on the contrary, we ought to free them from it ? 



118 MEANS OF PERFECTING EDUCATION. 

Shall we brave their prolonged cries in submitting them to 
a certain regimen, such as the use of a cold bath, for exam- 
ple; or is their aversion an intimation'to which we should 
always yield ? Is it best to choose their food, or endeavor 
to acustom the stomach to all kinds of nourishment? 
Ought we to proscribe all mechanical means to protect 
the head from blows, and to prevent other accidents of a 
similar nature ? What are the influences from which it 
is decidedly necessary to preserve children; and what, on 
the contrary, are those, of which we should make them 
endure the inconveniences in order to harden them ? In- 
numerable doubts on the best manner of preserving health, 
present themselves to the mind of mothers, which succeed 
in distracting more easily than in deciding them; and 
for want of knowing how to transmit their experience, 
successive generations transmit their perplexities. 

If we approach the moral domain, every thing becomes 
more uncertain, and still more critical ; but, with discern- 
ment, what inexhaustible sources of knowledge might not 
he found in the study of little children ! what a multitude 
of doubts might not be resolved, or at least enlightened by 
careful observation ! It might be ascertained if exercises 
that strengthen the body, have a favorable effect upon the 
mind also ; if the increase of corporeal vigor corresponds 
in general with that of moral energy, we might learn 
what are the agents which develop both, or cause a mutu- 
al paralysis. That dependence on our senses, to which 
authors have endeavored to subject the human intelligence, 
would be either acknowledged or controverted with more 
justice ; and if the origin of ideas remained obscure, the 
first sign of their birth would be at least discovered. Bon- 
net and Condillac, in a very different spirit, but by means 
of the same fiction, have sought to explain the mysteries 
of the intellect in animating a statue. How much more 
would they really have advanced science, if they had 



MEANS OF PERFECTING EDUCATION. 119 

Studied a new-born infant ! What curious discoveries on 
the existence of instinct among men, on the formation of 
language ; in a word, on the whole history of the human 
mind, would these young beings furnish ! 

It is '^undoubtedly necessary to beware of precipitate 
conclusions, and we can prove nothing from solitary ex- 
amples. But as every body knows, that in multiplying 
observations abundantly, accidental differences become ol> 
literated ; and that the peculiar qualities of the individual 
disappear before the attributes of the species, experience 
on a great scale would be one of the most efficient means 
of instruction. 

It is necessary to make our observations systematically: 
we should have, in the immense multitude that we know, 
that which would furnish most valuable data. The re- 
sults of different educations are every where found in the 
spirit so strongly characterized in religious sects, in that 
which determines the several professions, notwithstanding 
the late- period at which men ordinarily embrace them. 
It is also right to suppose that if we better knew the gen- 
eral customs among all nations, of raising children from 
the earliest age, Ave should find in a great measure the 
diversity of national character explained, and that the ef- 
fects justly attributed to the differences of climate and of 
race, w^ould appear of small importance compared to those 
of education. The misfortune is, that they tell us always of 
the methods, and never of the good or bad success of their 
experiments. They tell us very eloquently what they 
have done, but not whether they had reason to do it ; and 
among all w^ho have arrived at the age of manhood, we 
forever remain ignorant, which have been systematically 
educated. 

It is true that we judge of the education by its results : 
it is necessary, however, to take into the account the influ- 
ence of political institutions, and those of various causes, 



120 MEANS OF PERFECTING EDUCATION. 

that act so powerfully on the young man at his entrance 
into life. The question in this respect becomes much 
more complicated, since none can entirely escape the pre- 
dominant spirit of his age and country. But as the first 
impulse may be strong enough to modify all the others, 
and to impress on them a salutary tendency, there always 
remains in the domain of religion, of morality, and of 
knowledge, something that may be attributed to early ed- 
ucation. Among all the varieties of opinions, and cus- 
toms, good and judicious instructors generally form en- 
lightened and honest pupils. If adults in any considera- 
ble number fail in qualities essential to the happiness of 
society, and of man, we can boldly pronounce that there 
has been some secret defect in the manner in which their 
infancy Avas governed ; and on this subject there remains 
a vast field for observation. 

The uniformity of the products of civilization, actually 
cause us to forget two important things — that people less 
enlightened than we are, difTer infinitely among themselves 
in character — the other, that the child has an almost equal 
aptitude to clothe itself in the character of each of these peo- 
ple. I do not certainly pretend to deny that there is a dif- 
ference among the various races, even in a moral respect, 
Tacitus, who agrees on this point with our modern literati, 
believed that these differences were accidental, and that they 
almost disappeared after a few generations, when the cause 
which produced them ceased to act. But supposing them 
to be more permanent, it is nevertheless certain that the 
same education will establish a thorough conformity in a 
thousand respects between children of all countries, who 
are trained together. With regard to habits and manners, 
each new-born child might become with equal facility a 
Chinese, a Laplander, or an Englishman — such is the 
great flexibility of our nature ! Past ages are as nothing 
to the child. If he is not a stranger to evil, he is to the 



MEANS OF PERFECTING EDUCATION. 121 

i 

progress of corruption in the world ; and he might be 
formed for the golden age, (such, at least, as men have 
represented it,) perhaps more easily than for the age in 
which we live. 

It would seem, then, that among this multiplicity of 
possible methods of education we should have only to 
make our choice — that in taking from each method what 
is best in it, we might gather together in the person of the 
child, all that the flowers of the human race offer to our 
admiration. This hope is undoubtedly chimerical — but 
notwithstanding an attentive examination of the means 
employed to obtain every desirable result, would be more 
useful than it is believed to be. If for each and all, moral 
evil is inevitable, the quantity of it may be infinitely di- 
minished. When we consider that the Quakers among 
their numerous population seem almost to have annihila- 
ted even a passion so natural as anger, how does it in- 
crease the idea of our power over children ! * 

Can we ever elevate education to the rank of science ? 
can we bring it to sure and certain results, by classing and 
arranging facts concerning children according to select 
and fixed principles ? I know^ not ; but the limits of un- 
certainty will become much circumscribed and contract- 
ed. I believe education will remain an art — that is to 
say — an assemblage of means, in which a certain skill. 



* Let each mother ask herself whether she has never by word, 
look or action, exhibited before her child emotions which she would 
be sorry to see reflected from its own mind — whether she has nev- 
er in its presence appeared gloomy, fretful, angry, or impatient "? 
Alas ! we are never so completely humiliated as when we feel that 
with all our efforts to render our children perfect, our very example 
stamps upon them the imperfections of our fallen nature ! But if 
those who do strive to teach virtue both by precept and example, 
sometimes fail, what can we expect from such as never reflect at 
all upon their duty to their oflspring 1 [Ed.] 
11 



122 MEANS OF PERFECTING EDUCATION. 

a certain adroitness, will succeed. The art will never be 
thoroughly taught in books — and the influence of man 
with man, the talent to make themselves beloved and 
obeyed, and to subjugate the will, must always distinguish 
some from others. But even an art has fixed principles, 
and public education might become something more cer- 
tain than an art. Methods are more likely to succeed, in 
which individual differences lose themselves in the mass ; 
and the play of this great machine does not depend en- 
tirely, either on the pupils over whom it acts, nor on the 
masters that move it. But how much is yet to be done 
for the perfection of such an instrument by comparing 
experiments and proofs ! 

, These two kinds of education call for two different 
studies — that of children considered separately, and that 
of children collected in sufficient numbers to exert a strong 
influence upon each other — and that by an efTect similar 
to that of fermentation — the elements of their moral na- 
ture combining in each of them in a new and peculiar 
form. 

The study of children, considered separately, should 
begin with birth. It is clear that mothers alone can give 
themselves to this with success. Their relation, and the 
peculiar gifts which distinguish them, alike fit them to 
observe infants. It is necessary that a woman should 
have a pliant spirit to follow these changeable beings in 
their perpetual variations — every thing with them is so 
fugitive and vague, that a sort of vertigo would soon seize 
upon the observer who should endeavor to portray all their 
varying features. This study does not consist in a simple 
examination. If one has not that flexibility of imagi- 
nation which can clothe itself with a foreign nature, be 
himself and another at the same time, he can never be- 
come acquainted with these young beings. It is still 
more necessary to love them, in order to comprehend 



MEANS or PERFECTING EDUCATION. 123 

them, and they may be known much more readily through 
the avenues of the heart, than of the understanding. But 
when we do nothing else but follow the current of their 
feelings, and, if I may so speak, live in them ; all the im- 
pressions that we have in a measure received, are too ea- 
sily effaced. We become, from sympathy, light as they, 
and the task which we had prescribed to ourselves, is 
soon lost in forgetfulness. 

To succeed in fulfilling it, I earnestly exhort young 
mothers to keep an exact journal of the development of 
their children. When they have not more extended views, 
they will always find one great advantage in this em- 
ployment. It will give collectedness to their ideas, and 
fixedness to their projects. It will accustom them to ob- 
serve attentively, and to explain what they discover. 

In a very distinguished w^ork, the ' Annals of Education 
by M. Guizot,' there are fragments which exhibit a true 
example of the art of penetrating into the nature of chil- 
dren, and of assigning to their conduct its true cause. 
These fragments, which bear the title of the journal, offer 
to view the result of much valuable observation.* As to 
talent, it is much more than I demand ; but with respect to 
its nature, it is not exactly what I have in view. I would 
have an accurate journal, where the gradual progress is 
noted down, as well as all the vicissitudes of physical and 
moral health, and where Ave might find, by regular dates, 
the advancement of a child in all its faculties. The words 



* Most of these observations have been laid down anew in ' Let- 
ters on Domestic Education,' which obtained the prize awarded by 
the Academy. This work, to which Madame Guizot has put her 
name, manifests in the highest degree that penetration of mind, that 
talent at discussion, and that noble elevation of moral sentiment, 
which characterize the productions of the same author, and render 
her premature death an event so deplorable. [Ed.] 



124 MEANS OF PERFECTING EDUCATION. 

ideas, perceptions, feelings — all that is acquired or de- 
veloped, should be noted in this journal — we should then 
discover the first trace either of virtues or defects, and 
could thus be able to judge of their origin. In order to 
represent children, it would be necessary to relate their 
history.* The history of little events — of the joys and 
sorrows of their age would animate the journal, and the 
mother would soon find a great delight in writing it. 
The most simple foresight would make her feel that she 
is laying up for the future, the recollections of a delight- 
ful era. It would be so sweet to arrest the fugitive ima- 
ges of infancy, to prolong indefinitely the happiness of 
contemplating its traits, and to be sure of having restored 
to us at any time these cherished beings, whom we lose, 
alas ! as children — although we may be blessed in hav- 
ing their lives preserved to us. 

But of how much more general and immediate impor- 
tance would a similar labor be, if it were executed by the 
principals of the great establishments for education. They 
only see children in mass ; as mothers only see them in 
detail. What principles of ever active improvement 
might not be gathered from a thorough examination of 
the effects of the various methods they employ ! In in- 
stitutions of education, the action of such a principle is 
very necessary, in order to contend against the spirit of 
indolence, which incessantly inclines children and even 
their masters to elude all difficulties, and to content them- 
selves with appearances in order to keep pupils on a level 
with the rapid progress of human knowledge, which de- 
mands a proportional advancement in all the branches of 
instruction. And when comparative proofs shall have 



* The Journal of a Mother in the Appendix, is an attempt at such 
a history. [Ed.] 



MEANS OF PERFECTING EDUCATION. 125 

made us decidedly reject the employment of certain 
means, it is to be presumed that others will present them- 
selves to the mind, that may give to education an aspect 
entirely new. 

Although institutions of education are very numerous 
in Europe, they have been drawn so much upon the same 
model, that there is but little in which to compare them, 
excepting as it respects the ability of the professors, and 
this can lead to no general improvement. But when es- 
tablishments shall become multiplied, that are founded on 
principles entirely new, such as those of Messrs. Pesta- 
lozzi and Fellenberg, that of Father Girard in Switzer- 
land, and Hazlewood school in England, then the great 
questions with regard to education will begin to be under- 
stood. We shall see, for example, if the influence of emu- 
lation, the moral effect of which is so justly distrusted by 
every scrupulous spirit, is absolutely indispensable to the 
greatest development of the mind : we shall know if we 
cannot prevail over it by the happy effects of example, 
carefully separating them, at the same time, from the 
evil effects of rivalry : and perhaps we may learn that, 
before all other motives, we may place in the foreground 
the culture of feeling and intellect. From the success of 
the method of mutual instruction in these new institutions, 
what ideas do we not receive of all that may yet be dis- 
covered, and perfected respecting education ! And in re- 
lation to the formation of character, which is so much 
more important, what light is furnished by the new ipfant 
schools ! When we see these establishments where more 
than a hundred children, from two to six years of age, 
contracting together habits of order, and receiving the 
first elements of instruction, — and throughout their plays 
and lessons, having neither tears, or cries, or quarrels» 
but constantly exhibiting the image of happiness, — -we are 

astonished at the greatness of the results to be obtained 
11* 



126 MEANS OF PERFECTING EDUCATION. 

by the use of the simplest methods, and ask how it is pos- 
sible that so many ages could have passed away, before 
we thought of them. 

We are aware that it will always be difficult to estab- 
lish an exact comparison between different systems of ed- 
ucation. To succeed in doing this, it will be necessary, 
not only that those who apply themselves to the task 
should submit their owu attempts to a regular examina- 
tion, of which they should publish the results ; but more- 
over, it will be necessary to follow the pupils after the 
completion of their education, and to judge of it at last, by 
what they are in life. These researches are so delicate, 
and must necessarily be multiplied so much in order to 
render them conclusive, that we hardly dare flatter our- 
selves a sufficient number of observers will be found to un- 
dertake them. 

But what can escape the spirit of investigation which 
distinguishes our age ? an age, which alone has witnessed 
the union of two rare endowments ; the knowledge, at 
once theoretical and practical, of that experimental phi- 
losophy w^hich, since the days of Bacon, has given to the 
sciences such astonishing progress; and the will, ardent 
and steady to apply the discoveries which result from 
them, to the good of society. It is now understood that 
great works must be performed by united efforts, or divis- 
ion of labor. That which one man alone and one life 
could not complete, is perfected by other men, and other 
times. And in this day, when so many magnificent en- 
terprizes are excuted for the sake of religion and humani- 
ty, why may we not hope, that some respectable associa- 
tion will be formed, that will undertake to resolve by facts 
the great problems of education?* What examination 

* Such an association has been formed in our country' by oTie 
sex, who are engaged in teaching, or preparing works to Eissist 



MEANS OF PERFECTING EDUCATION. 127 

more important, could ever be the object of human medi- 
tation ! Is it not in the dominion of education that the 
greatest influence is exerted by one mind over other 
minds ? by the present time, over the future 1 

There is one favorable circumstance that I cannot for- 
bear to notice here. In all great cities there are numer- 
ous asylums for children, which offer subjects entirely 
new, and at the same time independent of parental au- 
thority. I speak of unfortunate foundlings. With them, 
there would be no previous impressions to apprehend, 
and we should only have to gather that, Avhich we our- 
selves had sown. Moreover, we could do nothing but 
good to these poor beings, in trying upon them all inno- 
cent methods. Even if one occupied himself with the 
earliest age, and the poorer classes exclusively, the appli- 
cation of the different systems to considerable numbers of 
children, might throw important light upon the subject. 

Among the obstacles which oppose themselves to the 
progress of education, there is one scruple worthy of no- 
tice. People fear they shall hazard something in attempt- 
ing new experiments, and they believe at every time they 
do it they ought to adhere to that, which is presumed to 
be the best. But the question is, not that which is pre- 
sumed to be, but that which is the best. We hazard 
something also in our opinions. There are undoubtedly 
dangerous experiments that should never be permitted; 
but Avhen all shall be banished that ought to inspire dis- 
trust, the best will be at once for all to seek the truth. 

To invoke the experience of future times is to say that 
I depend little on my own ; uncertain and limited as it is 
every way, I hardly dare to quote it here. But although 

the business of education ; their example might, with great propri- 
ety, and utility, be followed by the other sex, who to say the least, 
are not less extensively engaged in similar efforts. [Ed.] 



128 MEANS OF PERFECTING EDUCATION. 

I may not expose facts, I shall at least have the merit of 
raising doubts. I shall single out uncertainties ; I shall 
note difficulties. The best book in the present state of 
our knowledge would be, perhaps, a course of rational 
questions, to which the united labors of enlightened minds 
which have devoted themselves to education will furnish 
an answer fifty years hence. 



( 129 ) 



CHAPTER II. 



BIRTH AND THE FIRST MONTHS. 

''Man has received from nature nothing but materials ; but the 
simplicity of his origin is lost in the majesty of his histoiy ; the 
poverty of his elements in the magnificence of his works." 

RlVAROL. 

Although birth and death are constantly occurring in 
the course of nature, these events cease not to astonish us. 
They always confound the imagination, and carry it on 
to the borders of a region of mysterious things. Birth 
and Death, speak to us of two unknown worlds, which 
they seem to bring near to ours. 

Nevertheless, the part which we take in these events is 
very different ; — we associate ourselves with the dying ; 
we suffer, we tremble with him whose destiny we must 
one day ourselves experience — while with the state of the 
infant we s^nnpathize far less. Its aspect can soften us, 
but we cannot put ourselves in its place. The relation 
that we bear to infancy, belongs to a remote time, of which 
we have no recollection, and which has ceased to interest 
us. That which has nothing to do with our fears and 
hopes, will always remain indifferent to us. 

All nations also have busied themselves with the state 
of the soul after death, and have thought very little of 



130 THE FIRST MONTHS. 

what it was before birth. Even in the theory of metemp- 
sychosis, the imagination has interested itself but little in 
this respect ; for it has but carried back in the far past, the 
changes of form which it has figured to itself in the fu- 
ture. It is true Herder tells us, that according to the 
ancient people of the East, the souls of those who were 
not yet born inhabited an obscure and tranquil region in 
the centre of the earth. There they presented no distinct 
form. There they waited for light — the moment when 
God should call them, and the hour of their birth should 
be announced. It is, he adds, the ancient night, into 
which Job would have rendered back his life. 

These opinions seem to have remained buried in the 
East ; at least the Grecian mjrthology does not support 
it.* It seems, however, that the brilliant imagination 
which has clothed in agreeable forms so many philo- 
sophical ideas on human destiny, might also have em- 
bellished that. And at the same time that ancient poetry 
represented to us, souls arriving in crowds on the shores 
of Acheron, like leaves driven by the winds of Autumn, 
it might also have painted the hosts of spirits which land 
on all parts of our earth, and which even in the most 
barbarous countries are always confided to maternal love. 

But if, according to the opinion of the church, the soul 
is really a new creature, what ideas must we not conceive 
of that eternally originating force, which is incessantly 
producing beings from nothing ! And whilst the Epicu- 
reans of all ages are pleased to consider the Divinity as 
the idle spectator of the efTects of a first creation, what 

* Anchises shows, it is true, to Eneas (^neid, vii. v. 750,) the 
soul that must inhabit the bodies of his descendants ; but as these 
souls had always lived on the earth, we can discover in it nothing 
but the remembrance of a metempsychosiSj regulated by the taste 
of the poet. [Ed.] 



THE FIRST MONTHS. 131 

immense action, on the contrary, must not be exerted by 
the inexhaustible focus, from whence life throughout the 
universe constantly emanates. 

It has been already remarked that sorrow introduces 
man into the world, and accompanies him when he de- 
parts from it. A crowd of tumultuous sensations assail 
the soul upon its entrance. The air, like a rapid torrent, 
forces its way into the lungs of the child, and irritates 
them; the light dazzles his delicate eyes through the 
transparent veils which cover them : and although it is 
supposed he does not hear, it is difficult to believe that 
his own cries do not reach him. Thus the mysterious 
moment that plunges the soul into the vortex of life, brings 
to it suffering, dizziness, and vertigo : but very soon a 
sort of stupor, and sometimes a peaceable sleep, divest it 
of impressions which it cannot yet support. 

Much time ordinarily passes before the soul begins to 
notice. All the movements of the child are half convul- 
sive, and correspond to its internal sensations : there is 
but one of its actions which seem to have any design, and 
that is, to turn the mouth as if to seek its nourishment, 
and afterwards to suck that which is offered it : no other 
proof of instinct can be observed at its birth. Neverthe- 
less it sees after eight days, for its eyes follow the light ; 
it hears also, for sudden noises make it start ; but it still 
exists a solitary being, and enters not into relation with 
the world in which it lives. Perhaps it refers all that 
passes outwardly to the internal sensations which it has 
experienced only in the maternal bosom. It would be 
then in certain respects like one who dreams, because it 
would have a train of impressions that could not be out- 
wardly manifest. But there would be this difference, 
that in dreaming we attribute to exterior objects what re- 
ally passes within ourselves, while the infant refers to in- 
ternal sensations the effect produced on him by exterior 
objects. 



132 THE FIRST MONTHS. 

We cannot, however, doubt that it is instinct Avhich 
guides it. It is most probable that the infant at its birth is 
subjected to this great law, which forces the soul to take 
cognizance of a world of matter exterior to itself; only he 
distinguishes nothing clearly ; all his perceptions are de- 
tached, and do not connect themselves in his brain. The 
forms which move before him are not presented in distinct 
images : his sight cannot appreciate distance, and perhaps 
like the one born blind, operated upon by Chesselden, he 
feels as if objects w^ere in contact with his eyes. 

It is possible that without an unperceived intervention 
of the judgment and the will, w^e might be in this respect 
similar to the infant. That it is so, might be suspected 
from two facts that I venture to cite, although they are, 
and the first particularly, somew^hat difficult to verify: 
one is, that when we awake suddenly, there is an invisi- 
ble moment in which we seem to see objects retiring from 
us, which proves that, upon the first impressions, we had 
supposed them near ; the other is, that, in a state of extreme 
weakness, the sick often complain that all they see is too 
near them; it seems to them that images advance on 
them, that the walls of the apartment touch them ; appa- 
rently because they have not strength to overcome the 
^sensation. 

What a difference there is between the man and the 
brute, in the first moments of life ! How far above the 
child in intelligence is the little chicken, just hatched from 
the shell which w^e see run, scratch up the earth, distin- 
guish, and pick out the grains of wheat that are mingled 
with the sand ! How far above the child, is the young 
chamois, if it is true, as they say of it in the Alps, that the 
mother ready to be delivered, and pursued by the hunters, 
stops, brings forth her young, licks it once, and departs 
again immediately, flying with him across the snow and 
the precipices. 



THE FIRST MONTHS. 133 

Yet even after the first months are passed, I am not 
inclined to believe the child as destitute of instinct as is 
ordinarily imagined ; and I see in him many movements 
that sensation and experience certainly do not explain ; 
such are the signs that announce to us the first dawning 
of his afl^ections. Thus at the age of six weeks, the new- 
born child is yet a stranger in this w^orld, and nothing exists 
in it, of which he has a distinct idea. He knows not that 
the objects he sees, are the same as those he touches ; and 
whatever impression these objects cause in him, he knows 
neither how to reach, or to avoid them. Nevertheless, 
even at this point, so remote from development, the hu- 
man countenance interests him; when nothing in the 
material world fixes his glance, sympathy already acts in 
him ; a cheerful air, a caressing manner, win a smile 
from his lips ; soft emotions evidently animate the little 
creature ; and we, who know the meaning of the expres- 
sion, are transported to find it in him. But who has told 
the infant that such an expression of the features indicates 
affection ? How can he, to whom his" own physiognomy 
is unknown, imitate that of another, if a correspondent af- 
fection has not impressed the same character upon his 
features? There is nothing here which belongs to the 
senses. The person near his cradle is not always his 
nurse ; perhaps she has done nothing but trouble him, in 
subjecting him to disagreeable operations. It matters 
not ! she has smiled upon him : he has felt that he was 
beloved, and he loves. It seems as if the new soul re- 
cognized another, and said to it, ' I know thee !' 

Does not this phenomenon evidently belong to instinct ? 
Is it not an effect produced by the same inexplicable 
presentiment, which makes the terrified chicken fly at 
the appearance of a black point scarcely visible, high in 
the air ? The chicken, who has never seen the hawk, 
12 



134 THE FIRST MONTHS. 

anticipates cruelty and murder ; the child, who has yet 
discerned nothing, foresees goodness and love. 

We are struck with the slowness of the first progress 
in our species, because w^e compare it incessantly with 
that of the brutes ; but if we refuse all instinct to the child, 
the promptitude of his development, must appear truly as- 
tonishing. When we think that the young man born 
blind, of whom I have spoken, aided by four senses, and 
by the analogy between them, guided by mature reason, and 
directed by men who could teach him how to use his new 
sense ; when we think, I say, that this blind man was six 
months before he knew how to manage himself, with re- 
spect to external objects, and that after this time he often 
committed great errors, can we deny that the child must 
receive peculiar assistance when he begins to exert his 
faculties 1 

He is proportionably more advanced than the blind 
man ; and though even ignorant that he has an appren- 
ticeship to serve, he is better fitted to lead in the fore- 
ground the apprenticeship of the five senses. As we 
know that it is by means of the touch, that we rectify the 
errors of sight, it would not be necessary to tell the blind 
man that he must recognize with the hand, all the forms 
which he perceives : with the infant such a practice would 
be attended with danger, and could not even take place 
until he had begun to make use of his hands, which he 
does not do until he is five or six months old. However, 
when he is eight or nine, that is to say, after a much 
shorter experience than that of the blind man, he no long- 
er deceives himself with respect to objects placed near 
him. And what various knowledge has he not acquired in 
the same time, before the means of enriching himself with 
that of others, by language, was in his possession ? How 
does he astonish us still more by the facility with which 
he renders himself master of this acquirement? Any 



THE FIRST MONTHS. 135 

common man whose vocabulary is not much more ex- 
tended than that of a child of three years old who is well 
developed, would, if he was transported into a new country, 
employ the same three years in making himself master of 
a foreign language, and yet what immense advantages 
would he not possess in a thousand respects over this child? 
He is already familiar with the names of common things ; 
he knows the use of language, and he knows its general 
structure. He endeavors, in short, io instruct himself, 
while the child does not think of such a thing. 

If then the progress of children, on all points of their 
apprenticeship, equals that of a man directed towards one 
point only, is it not clear that there exists in their favor 
special dispensations ; that is to say, that there is in them 
an unknown source of knowledge, which we may call in- 
stinct % 

We talk too much of experience : it plays a part in 
certain respects, but it does not do every thing ; its influ- 
ence, which is of a nature to be- continually enlarging, is 
distinguished in early infancy by its uncertainty and 
slowness : thus, in whatever belongs to its domain, chil- 
dren are forever repeating the same experiments ; they 
have been shown five hundred times that to make an ob- 
ject stand erect, it is necessary to place it on its base, and 
they invariably lay it on the side : for three years together 
they spill liquids out of the vessel that contains them, be- 
fore they understand that it is necessary to hold the vessel 
horizontally : it is because the association of ideas is very 
slight in them, except when their feeling is excited. In 
every thing that does not interest their little passions, ex- 
perience is for a long time lost. 

Is it asked what we shall gain for human nature, by 
giving it a share of the instinct of animals ? There is 
every thing to gain for our dignity, I reply, if it brings 
one proof more against materialism. These questions 
have assumed importance, since many have endeavored 



136 THE FIRST MONTHS. 

to explain, by sensations purely physical, all the phenom- 
ena of living beings. But what do they do with instinct 
in this system ? From whence come, among animals, 
those fears and hopes which seem as a prophetic inspira- 
tion ? How, without model, do they execute those won- 
derful constructions, of which some species only know 
the secret? 

Will they tell me these are inexplicable facts ? but that 
is precisely what I myself say — and in confessing the 
impotency of material causes, I am obliged to recognize 
an order of things more elevated. What matters it, that 
I admit the same for inferior creatures 1 If through the 
intelligence of a feeble bird, I catch a glimpse of the divine 
intelligence, I prostrate and humble myself All that in 
every species is admirable in itself, and above the faculties 
that have been allotted to it, appears to me the effect of a 
sublime instinct ; a direct ray from the light above. It is 
that which has given to the bird the idea of a nest; to the 
new-born infant, that of the affection he inspires ; to man, 
that of perfection, of immortality, of infinity, of all that is 
too grand or too excellent for him to have met with on the 
earth : these are the involuntary and sacred feelings 
which are not only iyi him, but which constitute him, and 
without which he cannot comprehend himself 

How singular is the destiny of human opinions ! Scep- 
tics first wished to make the animal a machine : and when, 
afterwards, deceived by the similitude, they expected to 
reduce man to the same state, it is found that the example 
of the animal itself has destroyed the vain sophisms on 
which they wished to support themselves. 

The more we study children, the more I believe we 
shall be forced to acknowledsfe in them innate tenden- 
cies ;* the more we shall be convinced that there are laws 



* The phrase, innate tendencies^ might be ambiguous, hrd not the 
author explained that she means by ii only a susceptibility of the 



THE FIRST MONTHS. 137 

imposed in their minds, laws which the mind imposes in 
its turn on that which originates in feeling ; and the more 
we shall discover that external objects but give an impulse 
or furnish aliment to the soul. 

More than five months passes away before the child 
has an idea of taking up any thing with his hands ; their 
design is for a long time unknown to him, and the extreme 
slowness with which he discovers it, proves that this dis- 
covery is with him the tardy work of experience. He 
looks at things, and interests himself in persons long be- 
fore this time ; and thus appears to have received more 
immediately the use of sight. Moreover, I cannot suppose 
with Berkley and other authors, that because the rays of 
light cross each other in the pupil of the eye, the infant 
begins by seeing objects reversed, and that he learns to 
correct them only by habit. Images, without doubt, are 
painted on his retina invertedly, as on ours ; but when he 
is capable of comprehending that they represent real ex- 
istences, he has already judged rationally of the position 
of all things. The sensations which preceded this mo- 
ment, will always, to us, remain enveloped in an impene- 
trable cloud. 

It is easy to observe the gropings of experience in the 
manner by which the infant learns to employ the sense of 
touch : that Avhich he would seem likely to exert before 
the others, is slow to obey the orders of the will. He 
must in some degree receive the first notion of it from the 
sense of sight, by which afterwards he brings it to per- 
fection. And this is the way it is accomplished. 



mind to receive ideas through the medium of the senses, and not 
the existence of innate ideas; — the latter opinion, since the expo- 
sitions of Locke, has found few supporters, and must throw us back 
to the absurd doctrines of the realists. [Ed.] 
12* 



138 THE FIRST MONTHS. 

As soon as the infant sees, he enjoys ; after having' 
smiled at faces, he soon smiles at every thing that 
strikes his eyes. The pleasure of looking at what is bril- 
liant, agitates him. He flutters, gesticulates, and it often 
happens that his hand encounters the thing that attracts 
his attention. Then he experiences an unexpected sensa- 
tion ; he is astonished that an obstacle stops his move- 
ments : at last, when a return of the same causes has in- 
cessantly led to the same effects, he foresees v.'hat will be 
the result of his gestures. He then holds out his little 
hand with some design, but as he is not yet able to appre- 
ciate distances ; to touch the object, or not to touch it, is a 
game of chance with him. By dint of repeating this- 
game. he becomes a little more expert ; but it is not until 
after he is seven or eight months old, that he can at once 
lay his hand upon the thing desired. 

The hand which lays hold of objects, and, in doing it, 
measures distances, is certainly a very efficacious means 
for the child, to learn the w'orld in which he lives. Con- 
trary to the opinion of some authors, I believe, however, 
that before he can thus make use of it, he has already 
conceived the idea that the same body can be seen and 
touched at the same time ; and the bosom that has nour- 
ished him has given him this idea. What makes me 
think so is, that we see him advance his mouth towards 
the objects that he wishes to touch, about three or four 
v/eeks before he does his hand; the habit also that he 
soon acquires of putting every thing that he takes hold of, 
in his mouth, will prove that the lips and the gums are 
with him the organ of touch, which is oftenest excited, 
and the most sensitive. 

When the sensations of the infant are no longer uncon- 
nected ; when sight and touch concur to give him an idea 
of the same object, he knows how to refer the most of his 
impressions to their proper causes, and the threshhold of 



THE FIRST MONTHS. 139 

life is passed. The external world appears to him under 
its real form, and from that time his intellect makes rapid 
progress ; hut he has already commenced his first attempts 
at language, which it will be very curious to observe. 

At about the ajje of six weeks, when the smile and the 
tears appear, we remark in the new-born infant a little 
murmur, which is very sweet. It is an expression of sat- 
isfaction, of comfort, which he utters when at ease. By 
degrees these sounds become more accented : they then 
present the genuine exercises of the voice ; a warbling 
with which the child amuses himself, perhaps a confused 
imitation of the noise that we make in speaking to him. 
Rousseau has happily mentioned certain dialogues, in 
which the words of the nurse, and the inarticulate respon- 
ses of the child, present nearly the same modulations: he 
often addresses this warbling to inanimate objects, which 
he does not distinguish from others ; for he may deceive 
himself in seeing life where it is not, but he never can be 
unmindful of it where it is. It is sometimes a button of 
polished metal, sometimes a glass shining in the sun- 
beams, to which he speaks ; he seems to tell them that 
they are pretty ; that they give him pleasure : he seems to 
-manifest love for them : sometimes he utters little joyous 
and piercing cries, as if to attract their attention ; however, 
there is in this no real language, at least if we understand 
by this term, a means voluntarily employed to exert an 
influence : the child asks for nothing, he calls to nothing, 
he expects no effect from his music. 

The true language of the infant is his cries : he utters 
them at first without design, obeying a law of his nature, 
which makes him pour out his grief in this manner. 
But when this grief has been often soothed, and its noisy 
expression has become allied with the idea of succor in 
the mind of the child, he cries for the purpose of calling 
it ; — he has then entered the true province of language. 



140 THE FIRST MONTHS. 

The animated gestures, the act of reaching towards the 
object of his desires, also commence with him involuntari- 
ly, and afterwards become imperative from habit. 

The first words of the child are quite another thing. 
In pronouncing them, it pleases him to exercise a pecu- 
liar faculty — the power of attaching a sign to an object, 
and he exerts it without being moved either by want or 
passion. Does he see a dog pass in the street ? he imme- 
diately speaks its name as well as he knows how — but 
he speaks it without any other motive than that of amuse- 
ment : he is not actuated either by fear or hope. If he 
was afraid of the dog, he would weep; if he desired to 
have it near him, he would lean his body towards it, ut- 
tering impatient cries ; but it is in a state of perfect tran- 
quillity only that he names it ; if he experiences the least 
emotion, he abandons words as a new and superfluous ac- 
quisition, and returns to his real language of cries and 
gesticulation. Speech is not yet an instrument for him, 
and it is only at a much later period that he makes it 
very useful. 

It would certainly be very presumptuous to determine 
on the origin of language in the human species, from the 
first attempts of the faculty of speech among infants ; how- 
ever, as it has been often said that language was born of 
necessity, and that it was but cries brought to perfection, 
I am very glad to testify, that, at least, it is not thus 
with the child. I add, that he does not invent words him- 
self ; and that he does but repeat, and that badly, those 
which he has heard pronounced ; he does not even call an 
animal by his cry, at least unless the exam^ple has been 
given him to do so. Thus language, in its rudest state, 
is the fruit of imitation or of teaching, and does not appear 
to be prompted by nature. 

When the child is almost a year old, he lisps his first 
words, and tremblingly adventures his first steps. Al- 



THE FIRST MONTHS. 141 

ways in a state of absolute dependence, he possesses less 
than all creatures living, of the same age, the means of 
watching over his own safety: and yet he already displays 
the two great prerogatives that elevate him much above 
the animal creation. The faculty, of which I have just 
been, speaking, that of designating objects by established 
signs, has been often noticed ; but there is another, al- 
though less remarked upon, which developes itself much 
sooner. I speak of that disposition so general in infancy, 
which induces the child to interest himself in a multitude 
of objects, entirely foreign to his instinct of preservation. 
At six months, he no longer lives concentred in himself 5 
already the young existence manifests itself externally; 
already the mind begins to form those extended relations 
which must one day subject the material world to its do- 
minion. The most intelligent animals have a circle of 
interests which is very limited ; that which does not relate 
to their safety or subsistence, is as nothing to them : they 
love, but they do not admire ; and curiosity is a stranger 
to them. The child, on the contrary, is amused with every 
thing : he has pleasures which we might call disinterest- 
ed, there is so little in their nature which is sensual : 
the useful is nothing to him, and the beautiful already ex- 
ists ; such as he imagines it, he tells of it, and his eyes 
sparkle with admiration ; his little voice breaks forth in 
hymns of praises, before he can discern what will be use- 
ful, or what will hurt him. 

There are, I believe, in the history of animals but two 
facts which bear any analogy to this, and even in these 
cases the resemblance is deceptive : one is, that of the kit- 
ten, that appears to be diverted by stirring a suspended 
ribbon, or by rolling a paper-ball upon the floor; but as 
bodies in motion are all that attract his attention, there is 
every reason to believe that they respond to his instinct 
of hunting, and that he sees in them either mice, or the 



142 THE FIRST MONTHS. 

signs of their presence: the other manifests itself among 
several little birds ; the nightingale, for example, ap- 
proaches brilliant objects, and descends from his bough 
to look at them ; the lark is in the same way attracted by 
the lustre of glasses; but these are the effects of inqui- 
etude, of fascination, perhaps of the hope of food : we see 
not in them the expression of pure pleasure, like that 
which children manifest ; they only feel real delight at 
the sight of beautiful objects; they only become attached 
to them, recognize them when they see them again, and 
conceive for them a sort of passion. 

The pleasures of hearing are also vivid in young chil- 
dren : noise is in general agreeable to them, and, above all, 
music. We may remark on this subject that the pleas- 
ures of hearing belong not as exclusively to our species, 
as those of sight, — since birds, like ourselves, are sensible 
to harmony. This fact with respect to them, may per- 
haps indicate another, and it may not be impossible that 
the first musical impressions might leave traces as pro- 
found among men, as among birds. We know the effect 
which the first songs that they hear has upon these ; 
creditable experience has taught us that the warbling of 
a bird, presents an exact repetition of the sounds he has 
listened to while very young ; and that if we take from 
the nest the little one that is just fledged, and shut it up 
wdth a bird of a different species, it will adopt the song of 
its new companion. 

It may be then that by frequently presenting to the ear 
of the young infant, clear and agreeable modulations, we 
might thus be spared a part of the care which we often so 
laboriously take to perfect its organs at an after age : it is 
at least certain that in families where music is habitually 
cultivated, new pupils are formed with great facility. We 
may also conjecture that the great difference between the 
musical dispositions of neighboring countries, as, for 



THE FIRST MONTHS. 143 

example, the inhabitants on the opposite banks of the 
Rhine, are but the result of first impressions. The song, 
that charm so powerful to lull the griefs of infancy, would 
be also the means of developing the germ of a charming 
talent — a talent that is cultivated too much as an art, 
without sufficiently appreciating its moral influence, which 
was known and employed by the ancients much better 
than by us. 

The intellectual education of infancy can consist only 
iji a preparation for the future exercise of reason. The 
secret with respect to this, consists in fixing in the mind 
of the child, by the interest which we ought to have the 
art of exciting, perceptions otherwise too fugitive ; it is 
essential that a collection of facts becomes imprinted upon 
his memory, which may at some future day furnish points 
of comparison for his judgment. But to collect these 
facts, it is necessary that he give his attention to them.. 
Defect of attention in the pupil, and the confusion of mind 
that results from it, is the obstacle that a teacher oftenest 
meets with : this obstacle would be less liable to present 
itself, if the first impressions of the child had been clear 
and distinct. When his attention appears captivated by 
some object, care should be taken not to divert him from 
it: every thing which can excite his interest, or become a 
subject of observation, serves to develop his faculties. 

We must not, however, seek to redouble the intensity of 
sensations purely material. We deaden or stupify'the 
mind of the infant by stunning his feeble organs. To 
toss him violently, to tickle him, to strike forcibly before 
him on a table, to rap against a window, is to use rude and 
mechanical means which suspend his cries only by paral- 
ysing his faculties:* it is necessary, on the contrary, as 



* And we might add, shaking a bell or rattle, loud and boisterous 
singing, and violent rocking, all of which the judicious and tender 
mother or nurse will avoid. [Ed.] 



144 THE FIRST MONTHS. 

much as we can, to mingle intelligence and feeling in 
the diversions we procure for him. To caress before his 
eyes a dog or a cat, would be to develop that sympathy 
which the youngest children so easily feel for animals. 
To show him a beautiful object, and make him examine 
it in detail, would be to strengthen his attention, and also 
to excite in him admiration, one of the finest emotions of 
the soul. To make him observe and recognize imitated 
figures, would be to awaken imagination in him ; — there 
is, in short, a thousand means of calling forth his budding- 
faculties. When once the mind has been brought into 
play by some impression, it associates itself with it ; it un- 
ravels it ; it gives clearness and precision to it while so 
occupied ; and it is thus that the mind forms and exercises 
itself To vary without excess the sensations of the child, 
and to call into action the moral powers as much as pos- 
sible; such is the education of the mind in infancy. 
There is also one for the heart, which it is as much more 
important to cultivate, as the dispositions that favor it are 
more fugitive. 



( 145 ) 



CHAPTER III. 

DISPOSTIONS TO BE CULTIVATED IN THE FIRST YEAR. 

*'To love, is the beginning of morality." — Dupont de Nemours. 

To cultivate happy dispositions ; to give to them that 
fixedness and permanence, which entitles them to the 
name of qualities ; to raise these to the rank of virtues, by 
imprinting upon them the seal of religion ; such, in rela- 
tion to the formation of character, is the gradual progress 
of a good education. 

In early infancy, we can employ ourselves only about 
the dispositions of the child. Some of these may be cul- 
tivated, at an era, when it is yet impossible to combat any. 
At all ages also, the best means of overcoming, or at least 
of enfeebling bad inclinations, is to give continual exer- 
cise to others.* ' Overcome evil by good,' is the admira- 



* Would that this truth might be impressed upon the minds of all 
mothers ; and then instead of correcting their children, only to awa- 
ken in thern bad passions, we should see them more frequently 
diverting their attention from what is wrong, by gently presenting 
some new object. A mother was one day correcting her little 
daughter of two years old — the child with her tiny hands returned 
the blows in her mother's face. ' Emily,' said the lady, ' can you be 
so naughty as to strike your mammal' 'Ma' strike Emily,' an- 
swered the child, with a resentful look. This was the result of a 
13 



146 DISPOSITIONS TO BE CULTIVATED 

ble precept of the gospel, and comprises the whole secret 
of education. 

In order sufficiently to feel the importance of the first 
year, it is necessary to think of the power of education, 
and the limits of this power : the effects of our cares are 
limited, because we are only able to apply them to une- 
qual faculties, that are not all susceptible of the same de- 
velopment. The germs of all the human dispositions 
have been given to the infant by nature, but these germs 
have not all the same vigor. The feeble languish or de- 
cay Vv^hen circumstances are opposed to them : the strong 
resist the influence of circumstances the most unfavorable, 
and if culture is given to them they push out immense 
shoots. In every individual the development of each 
faculty has an assigned limit which it cannot pass; it is 
the province of education to enable him to attain unto 
this limit, or to prevent him from arriving at it. It is 
then only by the relative progress of the moral faculties, 
that we may influence him : but that alone would give 
us very great power, if we knew the proper time to use it. 

I know not if the first impressions are the strongest; 
the extreme inconstancy of children would lead me to 
doubt it ; but the first moments are the only ones when 
we can be almost sure of placing in advance the develop- 
ments which we wish to cultivate ; it is then that we have 
the greatest chance of obtaining an influence over the 
measure of the various inclinations ; that is to say, over 
the character. 



feeling which is natural to all living creatures. The cat or dog, 
when treated kindlj/, return, in their way, the gentle emotions ; if 
beaten, they scratch or bite, or growl their resentment. And can 
we expect that the little beings, who are men and women in minia- 
ture, can, by a process of reasoning, bring their passions into subjec- 
tion, to submit even to legitimate authority, when exercised in a 
way, calculated to inflame their passions 1 [Ed.] 



THE FIRST YEAR. 147 

It is very important to settle beforehand our ideas on 
the dispositions that we desire to cultivate : if we surren- 
der it entirely to nature, we leave all which she has sown 
with her hands to grow at random. Here is the incon- 
venience of that negativ^e education, which we so much 
love to boast of When we have determined that nothing 
shall be done, either to promote, or retard, or, as Rousseau 
says, ' que rien ne soit fait' (that nothing shall be done,) 
habits will be formed before we think of it ; we shall dis- 
cover unexpected shoots which will quickly supplant 
those we hoped to obtain ; we shall be obliged to submit 
so much the more promptly to the necessity we had 
been anxious to avoid, that of correction and restraint ; we 
shall enter upon the prohibitory regimen, a resource sad 
and uncertain. It is delightful to be employed only with 
the education that upholds and encourages propensities j 
that which represses and restrains them, always comes 
too soon for the mother, and often too late for the child. 

There are flatterers of human nature, whom I will not 
at this time stop to refute. I will not examine if all the 
natural inclinations are of themselves lawful, if those that 
Ave call selfish or malevolent, are of indispensable utility 
for the defence or the preservation of the individual. As 
far as they are necessary they are indestructible, and being 
fatal to morality, and consequently to happiness, whenever 
they pass this point' they are the enemies that education 
ought naturally to combat. In the social state, they al- 
ways present themselves in excess, and are of such force 
that it is necessary to restrain and control them. 

Happily, from the tenderest infancy we may cultivate 
dispositions which either oppose or develop dangerous 
inclinations. Certain habits which have a salutary influ- 
ence on the moral tendencies, may be given to the infant 
even before his character distinctly manifests itself A 
calm and tranquil state of mind will quench the restless 



148 DISPOSITIONS TO BE CULTIVATED 

activity of his desires ; benevolence will direct his atten- 
tion from himself, and make him feel in harmony with 
his species. Such dispositions are easy to take care of; 
we may call them natural, since it is only necessary to 
banish whatever disturbs them ; and they are at the same 
time the first in date, and the most important to cultivate. 

A state of inward calm is produced by means of the 
outward, and for this reason, among- a thousand, it is al- 
ways very necessary to keep little children from weeping. 
This is something that scarcely needs recommending to 
mothers, but perhaps they do not sufficiently study the 
means of succeeding in it ; and they attribute to chance, 
many of the cries that are not without a real cause. 

Our influence over the dispositions of children is so 
early, that we confound the effects of it with those of their 
constitution. According to Condillac, habits differ from 
natural inclinations, because they have a beginning ; but 
the distinction is not easy to establish, since we have never 
succeeded in detecting the beginning of habits : they are 
liable to form themselves with singular promptitude ; and 
physical cares regularly bestowed, as they ought to be, 
often cause them. Two events having followed each 
other in immediate succession three or four times ; the 
first will immediately give birth in the child to the expec- 
tation of that which ought to follow, and a multitude of 
pleasures and pains result to him from it, of Avhich we are 
the authors. I have said that the lessons of experience 
make slow progress in infancy, because it is long before 
the child can draw a conclusion from the facts which he 
knows, sufficiently general to enable him to decide in 
new cases. This is an act of the judgment above his 
understanding ; but he retains a simple remembrance of 
the association of impressions which succeed each other. 
These become promptly and involuntarily connected in 
the brain. There is, then, from the earliest age, more that 



THE FIRST YEAR. 149 

results from education than is thought for, and the part 
which nature plays is difficult to determine. 

The surest way for a vigilant mother is always to sup- 
pose that tears have a cause: if she carefully seeks it, she 
will find much more foundation for the grief, than she 
imagines. Little children, whatever people say, are not 
capricious ; a hope disappointed, a suffering felt or fore- 
seen, is almost always the reason of their cries. 

One means of preventing them wdll be to have as much 
regularity as possible, in the daily routine of life ; for, 
during infancy the utility of habit cannot be contested. 
When the same impressions succeed each other in the 
same order, the most painful will be thereby softened, 
and the expectation of those which are agreeable will 
never be deceived. Little children are extremely sensi- 
tive to mistakes on this subject, which become to them a 
source of bitter tears. Their passions, too strongly excited, 
also have vent by weeping ; and it is better to keep them 
from violent emotions, even though agreeable ones. Con- 
sequently, it will be salutary to avoid making them a wit- 
ness to the preparations for their meals.* Desire, sharp- 
ened by the sight of the object that can appease it, becomes 
in them a painful eagerness. The certainty that this de- 
sire will be satisfied, does not calm them, and hope is at 
that time rather a pain than a pleasure. 

With these, and other similar cares, we shall be able 
to maintain in children an habitual calm of the soul, which 



* We cannot agree with the author in this ; we have seen a child 
often months, watch its nurse as she poured milk into a basin, put 
bread into it, and then wait with patience till it was warmed at the 
fire : — at first, it could scarcely be pacified, when the operations 
began, through its eagerness ; but at length it comprehended that a 
certain process was to be gone through, at the end of which its de- 
sires for food were to be gratified : — this was a lesson for patience. 

{Ed.] 
13* 



150 DISPOSITIONS TO BE CULTIVATED 

is of immense benefit, and yet easily lost, the most essen- 
tial perhaps to their moral constitution, yet frail and fluc- 
tuating. The nerves once violently shaken, are a long 
time in being restored ; the health and the character 
equally change. There is in every one a class of facul- 
ties, and the most elevated, perhaps, which grow and ripen 
only in the tutelary shade of repose : this has relation to 
our finest intellectual endowments, as well as to our vir- 
tues. There is nothing admirable, nothing great in moral 
nature, of which serenity does not favor the development. 

Serenity ! charming word, which is applicable only to 
heaven and the soul, and seems to establish relations be- 
tween them ; a state of existence where harmony reigns, 
where the heart is at peace with itself and the universe ! 
In this perfect equilibrium, an intelligent mind easily 
exerts its empire ; our various impulses become regulated, 
and harmonize with the eternal government. Why is 
this disposition so rare at the present day ? Why is it 
necessary to seek, in the remembrances of antiquity, this 
Je ne sais qvoi, (I know not what) of pure, of elevated, of 
tranquil, which calms and exalts the soul? Whence 
comes it that we meet it in the rustic laborer rather than in 
more accomplished minds'? In the less complicated social 
relations, does man imbibe more easily the soft tint of 
that nature which surrounds him, and can he not find 
harmony even in the plenitude of his development ? 

However it may be, if we do not disturb it, this happy 
disposition will always be found in infancy. It shines 
with a pure lustre in the eyes of the child ; it reposes 
upon his expanding forehead. One, in whom reigns this 
sweet serenity, seems glad to live ; — to. breathe, to see, to 
move his little arms, is already a happiness for him. He 
welcomes all nature with gratitude ; it seems as if the 
young spirit took wing, and flew to meet her benefits. 
Let us not touch him ; let us leave the child to delight 



THE FIRST YEAR. 151 

himse.f with her ; let us fear to check the sweet harmony 
that is formed within him. As long as his look, full of 
intelligence, proves that his mind is occupied, let us never 
interrupt the train of his'ideas. Let us beware of restrain- 
ing his mental activity ; it is more real and salutary, than 
that which comes from us. 

I believe that we often agitate children too much : it is 
not best to leave them to become weary, I grant : ennui is 
a lethargy of the soul ; but that Avhich incessantly leads 
to such a malady, is the excess of the diversions that v/e 
believe it necessary to give to young infants. One ex- 
treme gives birth to its opposite, and calm situations are 
the only ones that become indefinitely perpetual. The 
more serenity a child has had, the more he will desire it ; 
this disposition may be permanent, but it is not so with 
gaiety. Even with the children who love her much, joy 
is a passing inhabitant of this world ; she touches it with 
a light foot. It is necessary to receive her always kindly, 
sometimes gently to call her : but when she is once ar- 
rived, we ought not to animate her too much. Immode- 
rately excited, she brings tears in her train,* she agitates 
too violently the delicate Jfibres, which vibrate soon after 
in an opposite extreme. 

Consequently it is better to occupy little children with 
things, than with persons. It is not, as I have said, that 



* Thus we see when a child is carried much in the arms, it cries 
when the exercise ceases ; and many mothers are so careless of the 
future, as to indulge their infants in a habit of no advantage to 
themselves, and of great trouble to those who take care of them. 
A well-managed child after being carried abroad either to ride or 
walk, will often cry on being brought within doors, but having nev- 
er gained any thing by its cries, it soon stops and turns its attention 
to something within its ovvn grasp. But the wise mother soon dis- 
covers that too much excitement, by means of new objects, tends to 
disturb her child's serenity. [Ed.] 



152 DISPOSITIONS TO BE CULTIVATED 

the distinction can be manifest to their eyes, but at least 
things are among the tranquil objects which do not excite 
them. With them, they make experiments, Avithout think- 
ing of it ; their judgment ripens by involuntary observa- 
tions. With persons, on the contrary, their lives partake 
of sjTnpathy and antipathy. The action which living 
beings exert over each other, puts all their passions in 
play, and even this action is so much the more animated, 
inasmuch as with children there is no communication of 
thought, and every thing passes in the dominion of feel- 
ing. Every one of their impressions producing an effect 
and obtaining a response, all their desires are expressed 
as soon as conceived ; hencie tears and anger are of ne- 
cessity perpetually changing situations. The impossibil- 
ity of fixing upon any amusement, upon any train of ideas ; 
a fatiguing inquietude ; that impatience, that mental dis- 
turbance so injurious to all ; a state of irritation, injurious 
to the health also, are the results of the action too long 
continued which we exert over these little beings, and 
that we permit them to exert over us. 

An infant of six months, half lying in his cradle and 
playing with his little hands, is in the happiest situation ; 
it is the same at nine or ten months, when seated on a 
thick carpet, he amuses himself with dispersing various 
objects, that he endeavors afterwards to catch again, 
While he is thus playing, )'0u can return to your occupa- 
tions ; a look, some token of intelligence from time to 
time, is sufficient to tell him that he is protected, and his 
security is perfect. Never deceive such a feeling. Go 
to him, if he appears to suffer, or if his mental action be- 
gins to languish, he can no longer amuse himself with 
what surrounds him. Then, however, do not hasten, and 
endeavor to give a short exercise to his patience : try to 
make him attach a meaning to this simple word, — ivait. 
If this Avord has always expressed a sacred promise, he 



THE FIRST YEAR. 153 

will learn from it gradually an important signification : 
the child will comprehend that you are decided to succor 
him, but that you have a vocation yourself, that he ought 
to receive and not exact, and he will be more grateful and 
more tractable for it. 

A skilful Garmm physician, M. Friedlander, was as- 
tonished on arriving in France, to see to what extent they 
endeavored to excite the vivacity of little children.* 

' It appears to me,' says he, ' that mothers play too much 
*vith their children in the first era of life, and that they 
too early excite their vivacity. In Germany, Ave often 
hear mothers recommending it to their children to keep 
still.' 

What reflections are not suggested by this simple ob- 
servation ! Who can determine the influence of this dif- 
ference of conduct ! Who shall say if the remarkable 
preponderance of the active faculties among one nation, 
and of the contemplative among the other, may not be as- 
signed to this same cause, which is reproduced under va- 
rious forms during the course of education. Do we know 
what we are doing, Avhen we accelerate the progress of 
the faculties in one of the great divisions of moral being, 
and thus comparatively retard them in the other. Can 
we judge to what extent the ones thus neglected, are of 
themselves necessary, and how far necessary to counter- 
balance others? It is undoubtedly difficult to give exer- 
cise at pleasure to the faculties which, as their name indi- 
cates, are purely passive or contemplative, but always re- 
quire time and tranquillity for their development. 

I know there are times of indisposition and sufl^ering, 
when we are obliged to divert children, and thereby keep 
them in motion. But because there is something opposed 

* Annals of Education by M. Guizot. Vol. i. p. 49. 



154 DISPOSITIONS TO BE CULTIVATED 

to the execution of the best plans, we ought not therefore 
to lose sio-ht of them. Mothers can acquire the talent of 
breaking habits gaily, and taking advantage of happy mo- 
ments to recommence anoAV. EA^ery thing is of consequence 
in education, and nothing is irreparable ; this is a truth we 
cannot know too much. 

From serenity will naturally spring benevolence, 
another precious disposition Avhich cannot be too highly 
valued. In the healthiest state of the child, when the feel- 
ing of existence is at once calm and animated, all the 
natural sympathies act in him. An invincible attraction 
unites him to his species; the bond of humanity binds his 
soul to theirs. We are made for attachments ; it pleases 
us to commence together ; the wonderful gift of language, 
sufficiently proves it. Love is the best thing in this life, 
it Avill also be our portion and reward in eternity. It is 
therefore to follow an indication of Providence as Avell as 
to fulfil a sacred duty, AA^hen Ave open the heart of the child 
to the sweet affections Avhich must enrich his tAA'o ex- 
istences. And if a feeling too intense is often in this life a 
source of pain : if it already costs the child many tears 
Avhen he dwells exckisiv^ely on a single object, — benevo- 
lence, that temperate disposition, by expanding in him 
more and more, Avill moderate its excess.* 



* This feeling of bene\^olence, or general good Avill, is better culti- 
A'ated by letting a child become the alternate care of difierenl indi- 
Adduals, than Avhere a mother or a nurse deA^ote themseh^es almost 
Avholly to it ; in the latter case, it fears the sight of strangers, refus- 
es to be caressed even by the other members of the family, becomes 
exacting and t3'rannical towards the being oA^er A^'hom lie finds he 
possesses such vast poAA^er. Although he may for this indi\'idual 
shoAv much affection, it is a selfish one ; he loves her because she 
is necessary to him. When the child is accustomed to the offices 
and attentions of several, he becomes familiar Avith them, some- 
times sees them engaged in other occupations than serving him, 



THE FIRST YEAR. 153 

We do not expatiate sufficiently on the happiness at- 
tached to benevolence; attention has been given to the 
sweetness of being the object of it, more than to that of 
experiencing the feeling. Nevertheless, he who is deeply 
imbued with its spirit is happy above all others, and the 
expression of contentment has already found a home in 
his features. If we analyze the various agreeable ex- 
pressions of the human face, perhaps we shall find that 
they all participate of the expansive nature of benevolence, 
that all possess this charm which dilates the heart ; 
a regard to mere personal interest then, should incline 
every individual to cultivate this happy disposition, if he 
cannot be impelled to it from nobler motives. 

In this respect, much of education which has been 
careful in appearance, has been very imperfect. What a 
difference is there in regard to benevolence in different 
families ! for it is always by families that v/e find individ- 
uals grouped together under this relation also. There 
are those where a mere stranger receives a cordial wel- 
come ; where a glow of kindness shines on every counte- 
nance at his appearance : there are others where more 
refined manners scarcely conceal a cold repulse. Benev- 
olence is however a rural disposition, which often becomes 
lost in the crowded city. Why do we cultivate so little, 
that which would remove so many obstacles, that which 
would so infallibly gain the heart, which would so easily 
supply the place of the hundred thousand rules of eti- 
quette, and would prepare children for the exercise of 
that Christian charity, which is the true spirit of our duty 
towards man? 



and learns to know what it is to love without selfishness, or to ex- 
pect that those whom he loves are always to be devoted to him. 
This is a lesson that mothers, as wives, should understand them- 
selves, as well as teach to their children. [Ed.] 



156 DISPOSITIONS TO BE CULTIVATED 

The fact is, we do not think of cultivating it. When 
by chance, it exists, it is because we have permitted it to 
do so ; not because we have called it into being. We love 
better to prescribe than inspire ; we supply the place of 
feeling by precept, and our frigid mode of education is re- 
duced to the art of restraining. 

This art is however insufficient of itself. Our prohibi- 
tions are always too numerous to be observed, and too 
few to apply to every fault. We would not assuredly de- 
sire our children to be subject to excesses of passion or 
violence, but the number of blameable acts being infinite, 
we cannot foresee them all in order to interdict them. It 
is necessary then to address ourselves to impulses. It is 
only through the heart, that we produce a salutary effect 
at any age, and in infancy, it is sympathy alone that we 
can call into action. But as the propensity to imitation, 
the natural result of sympathy, can actuate either to good 
or bad, it is as essential to bring children under the influ- 
ence of feelings of benevolence as to preserve them from 
those of hatred and malignity. 

In relation to this last, if to none else, some mothers 
have been well informed. All who have reflected on ed- 
ucation, have felt the extreme importance of avoiding 
every act of impatience or of anger — every harsh accent, 
or stern look that might strike the senses of little chil- 
dren. 'A nurse' says M. Edgeworth, 'influences the dispo- 
sition of the whole life. Children possess an inconceiva- 
ble facility to receive inclinations, and partake impressions 
of which they are yet incapable of appreciating the cause. 
Countenances speak to them, when as yet they do not 
comprehend words.' Here is an indication for mothers, 
and this sympathy is a power that is given to them over 
beings destitute of reason. By surrounding children with 
smiling faces, expressive of sweetness, and benevolence, 
we may soon communicate to their affectionate feelings. 



THE FIRST YEAR. 157 

No one knows how much we may gain towards gentle- 
ness of character by using means like these ; they are 
such as are employed by the Quakers, and we ought to 
take example from them in this respect. A very attentive 
mother, who observed such precautions, told me that dur- 
ing the first year of her daughter's life, a child of extreme 
vivacity, no trace of anger could be perc eived in her. It 
is a rule of English education, always to speak very low 
to little children. 

Although the means of cultivating happy dispositions 
are well known, and I have in part pointed them out my- 
self, I will, nevertheless, retrace them here. The first, 
which regards tranquillity, and this tranquillity mingled 
with joy called serenity, consists in causing peace to reign 
around the child, and if possible to surround it with agree- 
able and tranquil objects; the second, to place about him 
those persons only, in whom such dispositions actually 
exist, as we would wish to excite in him. I say actually, 
for affectation is here perfectly useless. Nothing equals 
the coldness of children towards hypocritical demonstra- 
tions, if not in sympathy with their natural inclinations. 
The last means, in fine, when such disposition as benevo- 
lence or friendship is of a nature to manifest itself by acts, 
is to fix it in the spirit of the child, by obtaining from 
him some material proof of his sentiments. 

This last means, which is very powerful, ought to be 
employed with discretion, for otherwise it will produce an 
unfavorable effect. Do we wish, for example, to famil- 
iarize the little child with a new-comer, at whose near 
approach he has been frightened? it is necessary at first, 
that the stranger retire a little. When he is at some dis- 
tance, if he assume a gracious air, and solicit a smile, we 
shall see the little countenance brighten insensibly, but 
something of fear still remains upon it. The nurse gent- 
ly advancing him forward, we shall in a few moments 
14 



158 DISPOSITIONS TO BE CONSIDERED, ETC. 

see the child playing in the arms of him, whom he had 
at first feared ; but if she attempted to seize the little hand, 
and put it prematurely in an unknown hand, the child 
would utter cries of fear, and would not see the stranger 
for a long time without repugnance. Thus, in cutting 
short a budding disposition, she would have implanted 
hatred, in the place of love. 

Similar examples are incessantly renewed in education, 
and in regarding them with attention Ave shall see how 
often they are presented to us in life. The study of the 
hearts of these young infants, is more instructive for ours 
than we fancy. We find in them all our involuntary sen- 
sations, all our first impressions. Imagination is in its 
nature eternally young, and the child always lives in the 
man, although every man does not exist in the child. 



( 159 ) 



CHAPTER IV. 

OBSERVATIONS ON THE COMMENCEMENT OF THE 
SECOND YEAR. 

•' The sensations accompany man at his entrance into the world, 
and encompass him on every side ; imagination, memory, and judg' 
ment, by degrees establish their empire, and people the desert 
where feeling reigned alone." — Riyarol. 

Several months usually pass away before the child 
who has begun to speak, has made great progress in lan- 
guage. He learns, from time to time, a new word ; but as 
long as these words remain scattered in his brain, and he 
is unable to connect them together, the acquisitions that 
he makes of this kind,^ appear quite independent of his 
moral development, and have not much influence with 
regard to it. 

Nevertheless, this development is progressing, it ad- 
vances even rapidly. If we could measure the steps of 
intelligence, the first would appear the most wonderful. 
The young faculties seem to pass as if by magic over an 
immense distance ; that which separates the purely sen- 
sitive life of the child, from the intellectual life of the man: 
at the age of which I speak, this step is not yet taken, but 
is about to be. Desires, affections, pains, pleasures, every 
thing is ardent, every thing is ingenuous in the child ; he 



160 COMMENCEMENT OF THE SECOND YEAR. 

resembles us in many points, but he does not think in 
words, and it is in this respect, above all, that he differs 
from us. 

It is with difficulty we can conceive such a manner of 
existence : language is to us so familiar, that it forms a 
part of ourselves, and we know not what we should be 
without its assistance. Man is, to use the expression of 
the Hebrews, a speaking soul : the succession of ideas is 
but slightly interrupted within him. Children and ani- 
mals are not so ; the same things present themselves to 
their minds, and not the terms which are the signs of 
them. For them to think, is to see again; it is to expe- 
rience the sensations which the real object would have 
excited. Every thing passes in their heads in pictures, 
or rather in animated scenes, where life is partially re- 
produced. As the various impressions, and even the 
emotions, are the great means of development in infancy, 
the child has been endowed with a singular avidity to 
seek them, to multiply them without ceasing ; every thing 
which promises a renewal of them gives him pleasure, 
He has a passion for walking — he runs towards the door 
with vivacity, and the mere sight of his hat transports 
him. If we are to take him out in a carriage, he flutters 
with such impatience, that we can hardly hold him. The 
commotion in, and about him, is his joy. 

It is not only present objects which act upon the infant ; 
their ideal representation also often possesses the same 
power ; if he is seized with an ardent desire for some- 
thing, every other feeling is for the moment suspended : 
we endeavor to divert him ; but he sees not, he hears not, 
and his mind is wholly fixed upon the image of the object 
which can satisfy his wishes. Even when not under the 
influence of any passion, the scenes which he has wit- 
nessed may be renewed in his imagination, and agitate 
him. A child who has been much amused during the 



COMMENCEMENT OF THE SECOND YEAR. 161 

day, cannot be lulled to sleep in the evening ; his eyes 
shine with a bright lustre ; a deep red tinges his cheeks ; 
his faculties, unquestionably too violently exercised, are 
so occupied, that silence and darkness cannot make him 
feel any weariness. 

This existence, in all things external, as well as in all 
present or remembered impressions, is prolonged beyond 
the period when the child begins to talk. Numerous 
traces of it remain in youth, and we may find it at every 
age in men of imagination. In these, the succession of 
distinct thoughts is less active than that of pictured scenes, 
and the feelings which accompany them.* We are af- 
fected in a similar mannner during our dreams. There 
all is action, emotion, imagery : we are rather enthusiasts 
than reasoners, and I doubt whether the most philosophic 
heads occupy themselves much in their sleep with seek- 
ing after truth. 

These results of the quickness of sensation in a young 
soul can easily be conceived ; but why is it that we are 
not more astonished at the facility with which the young 
child enters into the sphere of the moral world? Causes 
altogether immaterial, — causes, the action of which sup- 
pose a development much more advanced than his own, 



* The insane, in whom imagination becomes more vivid as the 
light of reason fades, often experience this renewal of past impres- 
sions so strongly as to believe that the scenes of other days or of 
years long past are existing before them ; and we sometimes hear 
them addressing, and as it Avere, holding conversations with friends 
who have long been dead — ' they weep or laugh, according to the 
nature of the images before them ; — one female who labored under 
a malady of this nature for years, seemed to live almost wholly in 
the past. On one occasion- she laughed immoderately, and was 
then heard to say, ' Oh grandmother, how queer you look in that 
litle red cloak.' Her grandmother had been dead thirty years. 

[Ed.] 
14* 



162 COMMENCEMENT OF THE SECOND YEAR. 

produce upon him inexplicable effects. Our impressions, 
our feelings are transmitted to the child, by means of in- 
dications so light and irregular that we do not know how 
he derives intelligence of them. Therefore it has not sur- 
prised those who for want of reflection think it natural 
that children should be like us ; and therefore it has hard- 
ly been observed by those whose occupation it is to search 
into causes. 

To have recourse to instinct, is undoubtedly to abandon 
the elucidation of such mysteries ; but it is however to in- 
stinct alone that we can have recourse. It was necessary 
that there should be a supernatural means, as it were, to 
hold communication with the child before he could follow 
the long route of associating signs with ideas ; we may 
also recognize in him a faculty almost of divination, that 
S3rmpathetic comprehension which keeps him in the cur- 
rent of our feelings. The same faculty which manifested 
itself in the child of six weeks, has become greatly devel- 
oped in one of a year old. At this age, a child who is 
active, and consequently improved, reads impressions on 
the features. You see reflected in him all the gradations 
of your temper ; he does not know from whence these 
changes proceed, but he partakes them, and in remaining 
a stranger to the causes he associates himself with all the 
effects. It is not precisely that he is sorrowful because 
you have pain, or is joyful because you have pleasure ; 
for he does not conceive of his existence apart from yours, 
He lives in you, and feels with you, without power to do 
otherwise. He is a mirror where your moral state is 
represented with an astonishing fidelity. 

At a still later period in an infant of nine months old, 
I witnessed a fact that I will relate here as an example. 
The child was playing gaily upon his mother's knees, 
when a woman entered the chamber whose countenance 
was expressive of calm but deep sadness. This person 



COMMENCEMENT OF THE SECOND YEAR, 163 

whom he knew, without having any particular affection 
for her, from that time fixed his attention. By degrees 
his countenance became discomposed, his playthings fell 
from his hands, and at last he threw himself weeping upon 
his mother's bosom. It was not fear, nor pity, neither 
was it compassion that affected him ; he suffered, and re- 
lieved himself by tears. 

Likewise, at the age of fifteen or sixteen months, a child 
who is present at a grave lecture, and sees a thoughtful 
expression on every face, is soon possessed with a certain 
reverence, and if you do not prolong the time sufficiently 
to weary him, the same effect will be produced on all 
similar occasions : this explains how a religious feeling, 
which is apparently too elevated to be experienced by in- 
fancy, may germinate early in young souls. An impres- 
sion which is at first without object, but which bears some 
analogy to the solemn emotion a sincere worship can in- 
spire, is communicated by sympathy to the child. He 
feels that he is in a holy region, the idea that it possesses 
something sacred is gradually admitted into his heart, 
and when afterwards we speak to him of God as the in- 
visible object of our adoration, the idea of a hidden power 
no longer surprises him ; he believes that he has felt the 
imposing effect of His presence. 

These impressions are undoubtedly very transitory : 
they are modifications which are as fugitive as shadows ; 
but the oftener they are repeated, the easier it will be to 
reproduce them, and in a short time we shall see certain 
inclinations arise from them which will be easy to culti- 
vate. The progress of the human heart is the same thing ; 
impressions light at first, but often reiterated become more 
and more decided ; they soon bring into the soul a dispo- 
sition which always facilitates the renewal of them, and 
thus prepares the way for those sentiments which influ- 
ence our life. 



164 COMMENCEMENT OF THE SECOND YEAR. 

A multitude of emotions, of passions, of divers impres- 
sions which in a certain sense maybe regarded as natural, 
are communicated to the child by our agency ; the germs 
of them existed in him undoubtedly, for it is necessary to 
the rapid growth of any impulse that there should be al- 
ready in the soul a disposition to receive it ; but this dis- 
position may remain inert and dormant, and we ought al- 
ways to distinguish the inclinations which infallibly man- 
ifest themselves, and without exterior impulse, from those 
whose expansion we may indefinitely retard. Thus ve- 
hement complaint, impatience, resistance accompanied by 
cries and violent gesticulations, are inevitable among chil- 
dren ; but the desire of vengeance is not always so ; they 
do not all Avish to make others suffer, because they do. 
And if in struggling they strike to the right and to the 
left, it is without any intention of wounding, when they 
have never seen in another the expression of such a de- 
sign : this, at least, I am induced to believe is the case 
with regard to some children ; but it will be necessary to 
confirm this opinion by more precise observations. 

The unreasonable fears which children often expe- 
rience, are owing for the most part to the contagion of 
example: this has been remarked by Rousseau — a dan- 
gerous guide sometimes, but often an excellent observer : 
he also advises us to accustom children from the earliest 
age to the sight of ugly and repulsive animals. They 
have then but little idea of danger, and are liable to be 
subject to antipathies, rather than to genuine fear. These 
aversions are ordinarily the effect of surprise at the ap- 
pearance of some striking object. They turn away, for 
example, at the approach of a person clothed in black, but 
they would voluntarily grow familiar with this one, soon- 
er than Avith any other, if they lived in a family whose 
members all wore mourning. In Africa, the little negroes 



COMMENCEMENT OF THE SECOND YEAR. 165 

are afraid of the whites, and it is the idea of a white devil 
that terrifies them.* 

The pleasure of exerting influence is already very- 
great in children of this age. If they feel sympathy, 
they exact it also; and it chagrins them when it is refus- 
ed; likewise raillery, which is an insulting manner of 
refusing it, shocks and mortifies them. All disagreement 
between them and us, is painful to them, and they inces- 
santly solicit returning concord. If they have once made 
^s smile by some pretty way, they will repeat it to satiety, 
and think it hard if we smile no longer : when we do 
not yield immediately to their desires, the refusal to oblige 
them, afilicts them as much as the privation : often indeed 
a sentiment of wounded pride impels them to disdain a 
tardy oflfer ; they reject with scorn the object that they 
would have obtained from our friendship, and then their 
pouting lips, averted looks, and frowning brows manifest 
the aflfront they have received. 



* It would be profitable in iufancyj to accustom children to obscu- 
rity, which they are not yet afraid of: we ought only to be careful 
to run to them at the slightest call : it is important at the same time 
that the impression produced by night be not so novel as to be very- 
strong, and that they attach to it no idea of suffering, or of loneli- 
ness, otherwise they would have met no sooner with some frightful 
object than the image of it would be presented to them in darkness. A 
child of two years old, on being asked the cause of his repugnance to 
remaining in a gloomy place, replied, ' I do not love chimney sweep- 
ers:' if he had been accustomed to obscurity, his imagination would 
not probably have conjured up this phantom. Nevertheless, in re- 
gard to this we camiot speak confidently : it may be that the com- 
plete absence of sensation during the night naturally produces on 
the soul a painful influence, and may be to it a state of bereave- 
ment approaching to desolation and affright. But this is not ob- 
servable in infancy. At that era, when we ought never to leave 
children alone, the example of gaiety makes them easily endure the 
privation of light. [Ed.] 



166 COMMENCEMENT OF THE SECOND YEAR. 

It is consequently to carry too far the desire of harden- 
ing little children to pain, when we refuse them, the trib- 
ute of a just pity in their sufferings. It would undoubt- 
edly be inexpedient to agitate their nerves by caresses, 
when we see them disposed to support with cheerfulness 
little misfortunes ; but when they really feel sickness or 
pain, we ought to pity them ; otherwise, we shall harden 
their hearts, and soon they will lightly treat the sufferings 
of others. When we have testified to them that we par- 
ticipate their sufferings, it will also become easier to raise 
their courage.* 

From sympathy proceeds the propensity to imitation. 
After having felt with us, the child wishes to act as we 
do : this is very natural. He believes himself able to exe- 
cute whatever he sees us do, and his attempts, at once grace- 
ful and awkward, are a source of great amusement to us ; 
we make them an object of pleasantry, so that similar en- 
terprizes which were in him the effect of a serious desire, 
we cause to become perverted. Natural endeavors at im- 



* It is very easy to teach children to bear slight hurts with forti- 
tude ; not indeed by neglecting them on such occasions, but by di- 
verting their attention from their o^vn feelings ; we may even teach 
ihem to laugh at slight accidents; a child of eleven months old, in 
its first attempts to walk had many falls, and when it met with one 
which caused it to weep for a moment, it would soon stop and 
change its wailing into a tone of laughter. Had it been pitied and 
mourned over, the hurt would have been much longer remembered. 
Indeed so fond are children of attention and devotedness, that they 
usually make the most of an accident, when they see this is the 
means of securing them. It may be the best way to treat grown 
people who are disposed to make their own ailments a subject of 
discourse, not unfeelingly to repulse them, but gradually to turn 
their thoughts to other subjects. In this way human beings might 
be of great service to each other ; but alas, they are in many cases 
disposed rather to trifle with, or take advantage of each other's 
weaknesses, than to assist in conquering them ! [Ed.] 



COMMENCEMENT OF THE SECOND YEAR. 167 

itation are soon premeditated, almost affected, while lie 
continues them for our diversion. 

A lady receives a letter, and reads aloud some parts of 
it to those who are about her, without dreaming- that she 
is heard by her child. He very soon seizes the first paper 
that he can find, holds it up before his face, and pronounc- 
es at hazard all the words which he remembers, connect- 
ing them by a noise similar to that of language. If the 
witnesses of this scene begin to laugh, the child does not 
cease his reading. A glance, cast secretly upon his 
mother, betrays in him a comic mixture of the gravity 
which he wishes to preserve as actor, and the gaiety 
which he partakes. Animated by success, he increases 
his attempts more and more, and at last he is nothing but 
a little buffoon, who wishes to make merriment. It did 
not however begin in pleasantry, and he intended to give 
himself to a serious occupation. 

Thus our manners alter the simplicity of children, in 
associating the idea of the effect which they produce on 
us, with their first impressions ; but what quickness of 
observation may we not suppose from one such scene, 
and a thousand others of the same kind which I could 
relate.* Where has the child acquired this knowledge 
of our nature, this skill in buffoonery, and this taste for 
admiration, which has inflated his young heart 7 The 
intelligence of sympathy with which he is endowed, is 
unquestionably very different from that intelligence of 
reason, which comes by means of words. But if one 
had not preceded the other, all the words which express 
the feelings, the affections, in short the moral ideas, would 
long remain without any meaning to the child. 



* All the facts which I have cited as examples have been actu- 
ally witnessed, [Ed.] 



168 COMMENCEMENT OF THE SECOND YEAR. 

It may be that the interior of the child, moulds itself by 
the exterior of others. He sees an action which he cop- 
ies, accompanied by a certain expression of physiognomy 
that he copies also ; and soon, at a future period, it be- 
comes manifest within him. He becomes grave from im- 
itation of the serious, tender from that of persons of sen- 
sibility ; and once imbued with these sentiments, his soul 
is more and more modified by them. This phenomenon 
appears singular, but it is not without analogy in human 
life. We see men endowed with the talent of mimicry, 
who with the expression of countenance of those they 
imitate, assume their manners and turn of mind; and 
who often, when they attempt to speak like persons who 
possess more originality than themselves, have ideas come 
to them that they would otherwise never have originated. 
Dress has its influence likewise, because it invests those 
who wear it, with a countenance correspondent to its ap- 
propriate character. The power of the military costume 
is well known, and it has been proved in the English 
schools that one of the best means of giving habits of or- 
der, of sobriety, and a kind of;^ dignity to unfortunate and 
depraved children, was to clothe them decently. The ef- 
fect of the outer upon the inner man exists at every period 
of life, and like most of the effects of instinct, it is most 
marked in children ; but our purely moral affections exert 
over them an influence still more direct. It is more pow- 
erful, more rapid, more electrical, if we may so speak ; 
and it exists between the child and us, in secret and mys- 
terious communications from soul to soul. 

Whatever it may be, sympathy and imitation dispose 
of every thing in these young creatures: one, is the prin- 
ciple of their sentiments ; the other, of their actions. 
Those poor children who are born blind do not walk, be- 
cause they have not seen others walk. It is necessary 
first to raise them, then to make them starfd erect, and 



COMMENCEMENT OF THE SECOND YEAR. 169 

then to advance their feet one after the other. Take 
away sympathy and imitation, and what will remain to 
the child ? Facuhies and inclinations, undoubtedly. Fac- 
ulties put him in a situation to imitate us, and inclinations 
determine his choice between objects of imitation. Chil- 
dren do not copy every thing they see done : they follow 
only the examples which correspond to their inclinations. 
This source of diversity, joined to the difference of cir- 
cumstances, is sufficient to explain the variety of charac- 
ters we find among them, notwithstanding we always see 
them choose only among such as are offered to their ob- 
servation. 

Self-love, as we have seen it, derives its source from two 
feelings, the pleasure that children experience in having 
succeeded in some enterprize, and their desire to see us par- 
ticipate in this pleasure. When, at ten or eleven months 
old, they are able to raise themselves before a chair, they 
cry, they gesticulate until we have remarked them ; tri- 
umphant joy is painiea in their eyes, and our applause 
renders them tender and caressing. 

It is thus that these divers elements, the necessity of 
agreeable and varied sensations, such as acting, imitating, 
influencing, exciting, and feeling sympathy, bring forth in 
young children all the attributes of human nature. We 
may see the w^hole retinue by the time they are a year old, 
and if we had more penetration we should discover the 
traces of them much earlier. 

The power of imagination is already great at this age, 
but I delay speaking of it, until the period when the child, 
being in possession of language, we shall have a surer 
method of appreciating its influence. 
15 



( I'O) 



CHAPTER V. 



INFLUENCE OF SYMPATHY. 



" Nothing penetrates so sweetly and so deeply into the soul, as the 
influence of example." — Locke. 

The reign of sympathy in young children is the cause 
of the power that we exert over them. So long as they but 
imperfectly comprehended language, and were not at all 
influenced by reason, we could only govern them by force, 
if Heaven had not opened to us the way to their heart. 
Instinct, which obliges them to live in harmony with us, 
is the means designed by Providence to make them adopt 
our sentiments insensibly, and to mould their Avill by ours. 
As such an instinct endures but a little while ; from the 
time that it is no longer indispensable, it begins to be 
withdrawn by the hand which seemed to have lent it as a 
supplement to intelligence. Soon the entire scene is 
changed. When once we undertake to govern the child 
by reason, that is to say by showing him that there is a 
necessity imposed upon him by the nature of things, that 
of thinking as we do, diminishes. He applies himself to 
judge by our words, more than our dispositions ; he lives 
for liimself, and not for us. We should undoubtedly en- 
deavor to make him abandon this selfishness at some fu- 
ture day, but it is not yet time. 



INFLUENCE OF SYMPATHY. 171 

Until your child is three or four years old, he has no 
happiness but with you. His necessities, his pleasures, 
the security which he wishes to enjoy, put him in your 
power. Other children amuse him an instant, and soon 
trouble him ; the little passions called into action interfere, 
and the impossibility of being understood by them, brings 
him back to you. But when once the young intelligence 
has taken wing, when the easy use of language permits 
them to propose a common design, and to agree together, 
•your child will escape from you continually. To run, to 
jump, to climb, to exercise his powers with the compan- 
ions of his sports, will be his true enjoyments ; they are 
independent of you, and if you have not secured his affec- 
tions in season, he may return to you from necessity, but 
not from the effect of a voluntary choice. 

I say more, at six years the tastes, the character are 
almost formed ; at least there already exists an impression 
very difficult to efface. If the child is malicious, head- 
strong, irritable, he will remain so until the era when a 
new development will hg,ve had time to operate. If he 
do not possess certain decided inclinations ; if flowers, 
birds, and rural objects do not speak to his imagination, 
it will not be easy to make him acquire a love of nature ; 
and a taste for the fine arts, which are but images of na- 
ture, he will remain a stranger to ; if in short, social af- 
fections, religious feeling, and a certain respect for ideas of 
^order and duty, are not manifest in his soul, — I do not 
assuredly pretend to say that all is lost, — but I say that 
the child was unhappily gifted, or that the parents have 
already reason to reproach themselves seriously. 

It seems as if we endeavored to shut our eyes upon the 
importance of the first years: it is a period we speak of 
with levity. Because a young child cannot comprehend 
our conversation, because he is not susceptible of regular 
instruction, we conclude that he is a being of so little 



172 INFLUENCE OF SYMPATHY. 

consequence, that his physical nature alone is to be re- 
garded. As his life passes in play, we look upon him as 
a plaything himself. Every thing in him seems insig- 
nificant, because every thing is as yet undecided ; but if 
this indecision Avere annihilated, we should no longer 
possess power over him. 

When you have permitted the favorable season of sym- 
pathy to pass away without gathering its happy fruits, 
such as the desire to please, to oblige, to assist the suffer- 
ing,* a willingness to deprive self of pleasure in order to 
bestow it upon others ; you soon reach an unAvelcome 
period, when the child v*^ill comprehend your exhortations 
in a certain degree, without receiving any sensible im- 
pression from them. Your reasonings will then be lis- 
tened to, comprehended, perhaps approved, but they will 
in reality produce little effect on him, because you would 
call upon principles that would not have acquired sufficient 
activity in his soul. The child will perceive, with indif- 
ference, the logical train of the ideas; he will feel that they 
truly follow the one from the other ; but it is their connec- 
tion that he will admit, and not the ideas themselves. He 
would be in the condition of one who hearing you add a 
column of figures aloud, Avould judge that you proceeded 
regularly, and who if you said three and three make five, 
would correct you ; but without its following from that, 
that these numbers were representations of real value to 
him. 



*A child may have a desire to please, and to oblige, and to relieve 
distress; but in order to render these feelings active, there must be in 
the character a capacity of sell-denial, without which, the best dis- 
positions are but as the blighted flowery of spring, which produce no 
fruit. Self-denial cannot be too early taught the child ; and yet we 
commend its fine feelings, its compassionate sympathy, without re- 
flecting, that they cost nothing, and are indeed worth nothing, except 
as they impel to action, and lead one to forget himself in doing for 
another. [Ed.] 



INFLUENCE OF SYMPATHY. 173 

It is thus that a child of six or seven years old often 
listens to your moral discourses. He cannot contest their 
principles, often indeed ~ he appears to admit them with 
pleasure ; if he has great facility of speech, perhaps he 
will forthwith deduct some interesting consequence, but 
do not depend too much on the resuUs of his conviction. 
When the heart is not already well disposed, such an ex- 
ercise of the mind has but little influence upon the con- 
duct. 

The development of this fundamental perception might 
encourage us much, and it would be actually premature ; 
but I will however make this remark ; since the child 
was rendered capable of experiencing affections before he 
could form any combination of ideas, must it not be that 
the Creator commenced by preparing the elements which 
were to compose his future morality ? If we lose the op- 
portunity of communicating good feelings to the child, by 
neglecting to avail ourselves of the aid of sympathy, tran- 
sient as it is, we reverse an admirable order. Then, 
when the season for Avhich we have waited to undertake 
the work is come, we have no proper lever to act with. 
Our principles of morality become empty forms, to which 
the heart responds nothing. 

If the importance of the sentiments which we inspire in 
very young children, were not proved, still it would be 
necessary to suppose it ; it would be at first the surest way ; 
and afterwards, would be the means from which we should 
have the most to hope for the future. All imaginable resour- 
ces have been employed for other ages. Reason has done 
what she could, and instruction likewise; punishments, 
rewards, the extreme excitement of self-love, all the com- 
mon artillery of education has been brought into play, 
and often with very little advantage. The only thing that 
has not been attempted, at least Avith regularity, is to give 
a sort of positive education to infancy; not only to remove 
15* 



174 INFLUENCE OF SYMPATHY. 

from the child the example of evil, but to draw him with 
an imperceptible movement towards that which is good, 
and make him enter life in a right direction. 

Nevertheless, if this route has not been methodically 
followed, yet how many times it has been by inspiration ! 
How many happy characters, how many amiable qualities 
are owing to this sympathy of infancy, which mothers 
know so well how to call forth, of which they always 
make so svveet, and sometimes so judicious a use! But 
what greater service could be rendered to early education, 
than to extend and regulate, if possible, that which ten- 
derness and good sense have often dictated to mothers ? 

The means of influencing young children is well 
known to them ; it is also truly pointed out by ProA'idence, 
since it first consists in loving them. It is the mother, or 
rather it is her love, which excites sweet emotions in the 
new-born soul : her looks, her caresses awaken affections 
which only require to be brought forth. Without these 
testimonies of attachment, such affections would perhaps 
never be formed. An unfortunate child deprived of ma- 
ternal caresses, might not, until very late, admit a ray of 
love into his heart. He would then have tender feelings 
in common with others ; and ail the better kind possessed 
by children, would lie dormant until an exterior impulse 
called it into being. But of what consequence would it be 
at Avhat time this took place ? Would they less surely 
be anim.ated by good inclinations 1 What is more infalli- 
ble than the love of mothers ? In that nothing is acci- 
dental, nothing depends upon circumstances, or even upon 
the qualities of the child. It is not only for the preser- 
vation of his frail existence that he has been confided to 
the strongest of all instincts, but also because he possesses 
a moral life ; his bod}^ and his young spirit have been 
placed under the same safeguard, the most certain and 
most powerful here below: 



INFLUENCE OF SYMPATHY. 175 

The heart of the child then, as we have seen, is active 
before the intellect : the spark of feeling is the first to 
kindle, as also the least liable to be extinguished. ' The 
law of love which produces love,' says the illustrious 
Chalmers, ' will be continued in eternity. It is the most 
indelible trait of our nature ; the innocent creature yet in 
the cradle manifests it, and we find it still existing in the 
most hardened criminal. If an unhappy wretch, who ap- 
pears dead to all morality, sees himself the object of a sin- 
cere good will, a dawning of emotion is excited in his 
withered heart, and he seems animated by a new princi- 
ple.' 

It is so truly love wdiich produces love in the child, 
that he possesses an extraordinary tact for discovering it. 
His preferences, which appear unaccountable, are founded 
on an inconceivable divination in regard to this point. 
Ugliness and the infirmities of age do not repulse him, 
the most essential services affect him but little ; it is love 
that he wants, love without beauty, without external grace, 
Vv'ithout even a title to gratitude : but wdien he finds its 
expression, the acts of kindness w^hich prove it redouble 
his attachment. On the other hand, his aversion for cold 
and severe countenances is insurmountable. 

It is the more necessary to avoid exciting this last im- 
pression, inasmuch as nothing can result from it but evil. 
Persons whom the child does not love, exert over him 
only an unhappy influence : he imitates their bad examples, 
and not their good. Fear, impatience, anger, are trans- 
mitted from such, and hatred even facilitates the commu- 
nication of them. But in order to possess the gentle af- 
fections, it is necessary to love : tenderness is the warmth 
which is essential for the development of goodly fruits. 
It is the first nourishment, and like milk to the young 
life, which can grow and strengthen only by means of 
such an aliment. 



176 INFLUENCE OP SYMPATHY. 

It is not enough, then, that children be benevolent, — 
they must love: benevolence opens the heart, but love 
alone Avarms and fills it. It is more nearly allied to 
greatness of soul than sympathy : the latter may exist, and 
sometimes exerts too great an empire among feeble 
minds ; but a certain moral vigor can alone render us ca- 
pable of attachment. Therefore I would not advise to 
turn aside the first affections of children without important 
reasons. A change of nurses or attendants is a crisis we 
ought to spare them, if we can. If they have naturally 
great sensibility, there is some danger in putting it to such 
a proof: we have seen poor children who were separated 
from those they loved most, imbibe a deep melancholy, and 
die ; if on the contrary their affections are cold and fickle, 
they will become more so from change : they will not be 
fixed on any thing, and the child will soon manifest self- 
ishness, a vice very odious in itself, and which corrupts 
the first principles of education. 

The jealousy of mothers induces them sometimes to re- 
move inferior rivals, Avho seem to be usurping their place 
in the hearts of the children ; but in so doing, they do not 
understand their own interest. The affections may be 
transplanted more easily than augmented. The senti- 
ment already formed may change its object, but the diffi- 
culty is, that it might require more power to turn away 
the child from being occupied solely with himself When 
once he prefers himself to all others, there is no longer 
hope of change; and the love of self is the most faithful of 
all attachments. 

At the age of five or six years, children almost always 
adhere from choice to their mother. Queen of the man- 
sion, the distributor of great favors, the only one in a sit- 
uation to appreciate and rev/ard merit ; for be her talents 
and agreeable acquirements ever so small, she procures 
pleasures and employs a power, the effect of which on 



INFLUENCE OF SYMPATHY. 177 

young imaginations nothing can counterbalance. She 
ought then to be tranquil about the future, and not forcibly 
break old ties, that from their very nature will become 
weakened. 

It would be better however if the heart first declared 
itself for the mother. Infidelity, which brings him back 
to her, has nothing interesting in itself, and sometimes it 
is very tardy in its operations. It results also from an ill- 
concealed rivalry; from vanity in the child, who sees his 
affections contented for ; and sometimes from a shade of 
hypocrisy. ' You pretend to prefer me,' said a mother 
to her daughter, ' why then, when you are ill do you desire 
that your attendant should take care of you rather than 
me ? ' ' Because,' replied the child, ' when I am sick, I 
forget that I ought to love you best.' 

Moreover, we can acquire a knowledge of infancy, only 
so far as we know how to inspire it with attachment. 
In vain do we cherish our children, when we feel that 
they do not love us ; we want that confidence, that self- 
abandonment which makes us accessible to them ; our air 
of inspection, of supervision, repels them ; they are con- 
strained in our presence, and the great influence of sym- 
pathy is exerted by others, rather than ourselves. 

But what advice can be given relative to this period of 
life, which ought not to be accompanied by restrictions, 
and what prudence is not necessary in the management 
of so much weakness ! If S3anpathy is too frequently 
called into action, it renders children inconstant, suscepti- 
ble in the extreme to all sorts of impressions. Thus a 
powerful sentiment excites a tumult in their hearts ; it 
often agitates them : it moves them to a degree of which 
we little thought ; and considering the uncertainty of hu- 
man things, it may, as I have said, expose them to much 
sorrow. Violent and impassioned caresses are also bad. 
Miss Edgeworth advises mothers to prohibit them, and 



178 INFLUENCE OF SYMPATHY. 

physicians condemn them for other reasons. They are 
also a source of future injustice, since at first they are lav- 
ished merely as a boon, and are afterwards refused to the 
real merit of the child. They may be also attended by 
disastrous consequences, as they produce a thirst for love, 
which, not being allayed in the second stage of infancy, 
mingles sometimes with the impressions of another age, 
and may augment its danger. 

Let your caresses then be to encourage and to fortify, 
if I may so speak ; let them possess gaiety without ex- 
travagance, and above all banish from them a languishing 
effeminacy. In proportion as you make them tokens of 
approbation, you may give them a useful character. 

This sweet exchange of sentiments is the only means 
also of developing the intelligence of the child. Every 
other language, except that of kindness, stupifies him, and 
lessens him in his own eyes. Thus, I think it very 
wrong to make frequent use of a harsh and threatening 
accent, to turn little children from certain mischievous 
acts : you make them suspend the action, I admit, but it is 
because you disturb their feelings. You interrupt the 
train of their ideas. They do nothing but weep, and when 
they are appeased, they have forgotten the thing that oc- 
cupied them ; but they do not imagine that you have for- 
bidden it, and they recommence it on the first occasion. 
When they give a meaning to our words, it is from S}Tn- 
pathy: the accent and the countenance explain it, and 
hence the extreme inequality in their facility of compre- 
hending us. If, then, you cut short this disposition by vi- 
olence, they will understand you no longer. It is true, 
that by dint of associating an impression of fear with the 
idea of a certain act, they may at length abstain from it ; 
it is thus animals are trained. But if you adopt this kind 
of education with the child, he will soon receive from it 
another. Witness of your anger, he will at once take 



INFLUENCE OF SYMPATHY. 179 

example from you, and the injurious words with which 
you load him, will before long be applied to yourself 
The instinct of imitation is stronger in children than fear ; 
and, unless we suppose an excess of severity, happily be- 
come very rare, we are models to them, more than objects 
of fear. 

We find in animals, precisely the reverse. The fear 
of each other acts upon the different species, while the 
love of imitation is confined to those of the same species. 
•If you maltreat a dog, and he menaces you, he does it but 
to defend himself, and not to imitate you. We do not 
see, monkeys excepted, any living creature out of our spe- 
cies, mimic our actions. In infancy, all copy the exam- 
ple of father and mother, and particularly human crea- 
tures. Never be angry, then, either with your child, or in 
his presence. Until three or four years old, the most 
virtuous indignation will be but anger in his eyes. You 
would take his cause in hand, but soon the motive would 
escape him, and the effect which struck his senses, would 
alone act upon his sensitive imagination. When we think 
of the immense advantage which men of self-possession 
have over others in the world, we ought to seek to procure 
this superiority for children. 

In subjection, as he is by this condition, the young be- 
ing nevertheless feels mentally free, and he possesses a 
feeling of independence : at his age he understands noth- 
ing of servility, of entreaty, of condescension, or even of 
the effect of fear. The child of eighteen months acts as 
he pleases; his weakness, and our power he does not 
think of His solicitations, which are never humble, be- 
come orders but too easily. When he seeks to oblige 
you, it is because he loves you, because he delights to 
please you. If your threats succeed in frightening him 
for a moment, recovered from his astonishment, he is 



180 INFLUENCE OF SYMPATHY. 

not the more docile for them ; and your anger, by bewil- 
dering his mind, increases his disposition to irritability. 

Thus if we knew how to distinguish the results of our 
conduct, we should see them increase with time, and al- 
ways find them more extensive than we imagined. The 
various stimulants to the moral development which I have 
spoken of, sympathy, love, instinct of imitation, expecta- 
tion of pleasures and pains, are so many threads which 
may be woven by ourselves. The nature of the infant 
is manifested by his avidity to receive sensations, by the 
power which he soon manifests of employing them, of 
transforming in a thousand waj'-s the materials that we, 
sooner or later, furnish to his mind. We influence chil- 



* We sometimes see parents correcting very )"Oimg children to 
make them cease crying. The following fact, it is feared, is not the 
only one of the kind which might be adduced. A gentleman was play- 
ing with his child of a year old, who, as he thought unreasonably, be- 
gan to cry. He ordered silence; the child did not obey ; the father 
then began to whip it, but this terrified the child, and increased its 
cries. The mother interceded but in vain. The father thought the 
child Vv'ould be ruined unless it was made to yield, and renewed his 
chastisement with increased severity. The child shrieked with 
still more violence — the mother in tears turned from the sight of 
what she knew to be injudicious, and felt to be cruel ; but she knew 
her husband thought himself in the right, and would be inflexible 
to her entreaties; yet she often returned, as a momentary quiet 
made her hope the scene Avas at an end ; but the child was quiet 
only from exhaustion, and renewed its cries as soon as it regained 
strength. At length it sunk into sleep, incapable of further effort, 
and was delivered into the arms of the mother. On undressing it, 
a pin was discovered sticking into its back, and thus the cause of 
its first cries was ascertained. Both parents now watched in in- 
tense agony over the sufiTerer, who in its disturbed sleep gave strong 
indications of a tendency to convulsions ; every nerve seemed agi- 
tated, and convulsive sobs at intervals showed that even in sleep, the 
mind was torn by terrifying fears. The father wisely resolved 
never again to correct a young child to make it quiet. [Ed.] 



INFLUENCE OF SYMPATHY. 181 

dren unintentionally by the effect of the most necessary 
cares; the question is not, whether we modify the soul of 
the child, — ^but whether we do it understandingly. 

To leave nature to act, in the most reasonable sense of 
this expression, is to give the faculties an opportunity to 
re-establish their equilibrium, when this has been destroyed 
by misfortune. Then the free choice of the child ordina- 
rily inclines him to fix upon the state which is most salu- 
tary to him ; it exercises the faculties that have remained 
inactive, and gives repose to those which we have too 
much exercised, thus in a degree repairing our faults. 
It is generally a prudent measure in education to make 
alternate use of opposite situations. When calm and 
activity, silence and noise, solitude and society succeed 
each other at regular intervals, all is not disturbance and 
confusion in the new-born infant ; each influence acting 
in its turn, produces the good that is appropriate to it, and 
we succeed in distinguishing its effect; from this we infer, 
that the little child should sometimes be left to himself, 
and be permitted to manifest his o^vn inclinations. 

Therefore mechanical means of safety, such as secure 
him against accidents, have at least the advantage of pro- 
curing some independence to the child. But on the con- 
trary, those which, like leading-strings, oblige us to follow 
them constantly; which either subject him to our capri- 
ces, or us to cares ; those, I say, combine a bad moral 
effect with physical inconvenience. 

But whatever hope we may found upon a tendency to 
equilibrium in infancy, it would be very imprudent to de- 
pend upon the energy of such a principle. Even were it 
active enough to prevent the formation of bad inclina- 
tions, it would never be sufficient to destroy them, when 
once contracted. On the contrary, there is in every incli- 
nation a preservative instinct, which incessantly nourishes 
and strengthens it. So that if the inclination is danger- 
16 



IS'2 INFLUKNCF. OF SYMFATHY. 

ous, what we call its nature, or tlio piobaMf course of its 
ilevelopniont is far from boiiii;- liivovablo to future uiornlity. 
It is therefore true that the tirst propeusity of the charac- 
ter deserves our u\ost serious atteutiou, and that a talent 
for observation,* is an inestimable gill to a mother. 



* This talent must be cultivated by the luotlierwho wishes either 
tlie physioal or moral well-btMni:: of her (.hiUl. She must t^itstfTf the 
daily eomlition of its Kmels, tlie etloct whii-h food of ditlereiu kinds 
1ms upon its stomaeh, or the etleet of niedii'inos, (if such ate neces- 
sary) — she must cbst-rrf what are the nu^t favorable hours for its 
sleep, and what deq:ive of exercise and expi^ure it will bt^ar — es- 
pecially must she i>t>st'nr what rtMultM^s it ttviful, anil what has a 
eaJmiui; otfeot upon its spirits, and what is the best method iif man- 
aginif its disposition : in sliort, miuh ol a luotlun's ilmy is cam- 
prised in this one word, iA<irv<itioii. liuloeil, <:ction is cimneote* 
with it; but tew mother?* fail in this — nuv^t i>f them do enouiih to 
their children; but the ditticulty is, their actions are too seUlom tlw 
result of tA<t'rvtiti(>n. Some vuihod is better than none, even thousrh 
it be a bad one. There is always hope that a person who seeks to 
do riijht, will get into the right way : while ol' those who make no 
ellort, we can have no hope. [Ex\J 



( 183) 



CIIAPTEll VI. 



TllK MKANS I»V W MM II rillMMMlN A«'QlIlUi: LANdU Ad I.. 

'Do ma I'ailtlc laisnii jc lis l'upprt'iUi.s.sngo; 
Tiapix'' (III soil (l«'s mills, tittciilirniix oltjcis, 
Jc iV'|ici!ii Ics Moms, .)»• (Iisliii/^iiiii Ics liiiils, 
Jcidiiniis, jc noiinuni, jo ciu'cssiii luon pi>rc.' 

IIaCJNK TIIK YltUNOIt. 

^J^iiK end (ifllu* second yonr is vcniiirK'nliK* jiin()n<>" oliil- 
droii for llic iM|)i(! proijicss lluil llicy usually nmlvc^ iti 
speech. Al. this lime llicy l>cj»;in to («xi)n'ss ihcinsclves 
well, or ill; Iml we may oliscrvii ii ^reiit diircriMU'e in 
this rcsiK'ctj llu' uuiupial dishihution of niituro's oills arc 
alrondv manifest. TIumiiI of spcalvini;-, rcipiircs tlio ron- 
cunciu'c of many ficiillios, moral and |)hysiral ; and if 
any one of |Im's<" remains iiii(lr\cIo|)('d, ji hecuilU'S an oh- 
fitucU" ill ihc way of inipiovniu'iil. 

Indeed, to appreciate sounds, an ear is necessary, and to 
nrticulat(^ lliein with llexihilily in tluMU'oans of the throat, 
nnderstandini>;, JVlind is nivessary to coinpicliciid words, 
and memory lo iclaiii lliem. When such inlis arc found 
united in an eminent dej^ree, wiiich is very rarely tiic 
CAiHo, tiie child will speak very well at two years old. 

IJut how has tlie ciiild, vviu) is so inferior to animals 
of the same age in ninny respects, come in possession of 



184 THE MEANS BY WHICH CHILDREN 

this excellent gift of speech ? By what means has he ob- 
tained it? This I could have wished to elucidate by mi- 
nute observations, whereas I can only give a feeble outline. 
The subject is far from being treated here, but I shall at 
least have recommended it to the attention of mothers. 
Nothing can be more interesting, than to see the under- 
standing gradually emerge from the cloud that enveloped 
it, soaring aloft each time that it discovers a new expres- 
sion, and making its first acquirements the means of ob- 
taining those of greater consequence. The child, a stran- 
ger in the world of things which he yet scarcely knows, 
soon feels the necessity of entering the world of words, 
which correspond to them, and which will soon furnish 
avenues to thought. At that time he commences a more 
intellectual existence, Avhere images of things, and the tu- 
multuous desires which they excite, always reign, but 
which he soon becomes able to tranquillize. 

Aided by the intelligence of some mothers, I have col- 
lected the following facts : — 

Words, separated by the young mind, from the sentence 
to which they properly belong, occupy a place by them- 
selves, in his memory. Of this number are, first, nouns, 
or the signs attached to persons or things, which attract 
the attention of children. They voluntarily repeat the 
most striking syllable of these, that which has given the 
idea of forming double syllables, of the first words we 
teach them. These are nothing but the articulations 
which constituted the natural warbling of the child, before 
he began to speak. Thus, at the age of seven or eight 
months, he constantly pronounces the syllables pa, ma, da, 
but without attaching any meaning to them. When he 
comes to associate them afterwards with the idea of cer- 
tain objects, and thus to make a language of them, it is be- 
cause we have given him the example, but perhaps with- 
out being conscious of its effect. 



ACQUIRE LANGUAGE. 185 

It undoubtedly appears simple enough, that the child 
learns to name material objects : when we have often 
shown them to him, at the same time giving" utterance to 
certain sounds, the thing afterwards awakens the idea of 
the word, and the word that of the thing. But it is more 
difficult to conceive how he attaches a sign to that which 
has no corporeal existence. Actions, for example, which 
are always expressed or supposed by verbs, have no per- 
manent type in nature ; they do not come within the scope 
of the child's senses when he names them, and he says 
' go, ' at a time when one did not go. It must be that he 
has the idea expressed by the verb, that this idea is at once 
clear and flexible, and applies itself successively to every 
circumstance of the action. Now, how has he conceived 
a notion which seems to be an abstraction of the most 
subtle kind ? It appears that it has been given to him by 
gestures; actions are the natural subjects of pantomime, 
which we also call the language of action. We gesticu- 
late a great deal with children, without thinking of it ; they 
are also great gesticulators themselves. If then a partic- 
ular word has always accompanied a particular movement, 
the two ideas become connected in their brain. 

It is true there are several words which are verbs to us, 
but not always so to them. Thus, ' to drink ' is to them 
the idea of water, or milk : ' to walk ' is either the open 
air, or the door. But when they begin to expect that we 
shall act in consequence of these words, the action acquires 
more and more consistency in their minds, and they at 
length truly attach a sign to it. 

It is worthy of remark that even animals comprehend 
verbs, whenever they express an action. We ordinarily 
make use of these words to dogs and horses, when we 
wish them to obey us, and then we naturally employ them 
in the imperative. The child as well as the negro, makes 
use at first of the infinitive alone. As he forms no idea 
16* 



186 THE MEANS BY WHICH CHILDREN 

of time, and as he does not comprehend pronouns until a 
late period, he is reduced to this mode of speech. 

Two words, which the child learns very readily, the 
particles ' yes, ' and ' no, ' are also intepretations of ges- 
tures. They designate the corporeal act of repulsing or 
receiving, and thence become verbs ; these are ' will,' and 
* wont. ' ' No, ' above all, is frequently employed by the 
child ; it expresses in one word his repugnance ; but when 
the thing offered to him is agreeable, he seizes it Avith 
such eager vivacity, that the word becomes useless. 

Some of the adjectives are next introduced into his 
brain, and they are those which express sensations very 
strikingly. ' Pretty,' is soon of this number, so great is 
his desire to testify his admiration. 

He at first makes use of various words without con- 
necting them together ; but we can easily see that they are 
assembled in his mind. Thus a child who sees his fath- 
er and mother near the fire, immediately says 'Papa, 
Mama, warm,' leaving out the intermediate words. At 
this early period of development, children are continually 
giving utterance to indifferent observations without any 
other motive than the pleasure of expressing them. 

In reflecting on this subject, we perceive that these three 
kinds of words, nouns, verbs, and adjectives, pronounced 
by infancy before any other, are truly the material, and, as 
it were, the body of conversation. They express the 
great concern of the soul as it regards this world, that of 
distinguishing external objects by nouns, that of defining 
its OA^m impressions by adjectives, and lastly of announc- 
ing its determinations by verbs. This is to know, to feel, 
and to will. It is the whole man. 

These words then are of great importance to the child ; 
but how happens it that he finally employs others to which 
it seems difficult that he should attach a meaning ? How 
does he comprehend prepositions, conjunctions, adverbs, 



ACQUIRE LANGUAGE. 187 

those terms without number, which, as it were, are instru- 
ments with which we vary, separate, connect, or modify- 
in a thousand ways, the component parts of conversation ? 
What use has he for ^icith^ ' as^ 'for^ 'although^ 'verif 
— of which perhaps not one grown person in ten knows 
how to define. He employs them very properly as soon 
as he has acquired them ; but it is this acquirement which 
appears so mysterious. 

Some observations induce me to believe, that he does 
not separate them from the sentence of which they form a 
part. This sentence appears to him to be one great word, 
the meaning of which he divines by the power of his 
wonderful sympathy ; a word which he repeats distinctly 
if he has a correct ear and a flexible throat ; if otherwise, 
he maims, or abridges it, but never decomposes it. And 
when he afterwards finds the same terms in diflferent sen- 
tences, he does not immediately remember them. These 
words are to him, what syllables are to us, when we con- 
stantly meet them in conversation, without attaching any 
sense to them. Nothing perhaps but reading can give us 
a knowledge of the true formation of words. There- 
fore, we see unlettered people, who write without having 
read much, connect terms together in the most singular 
manner, and unite, or divide them, at hazard. 

Let us suppose that we say to the child, holding out 
our hand at the same time, ' Will you come to the garden 
with me ? ' he will repeat — ' Yes, yes, come to the garden 
with me ; ' the gesture, and the word ' garden,' having 
been sufficient. to make him understand. If, on the con- 
trary, we said to him, making a repulsive sign — ' I will 
go into the garden without you !' he will repeat for a long 
time in a mournful voice, ' Not without you, not without 
you.' Hence we see, that although understanding cor- 
rectly the entire sentence, he does not give a meaning to 
every word. 



188 THE MEANS BY WHICH CHILDREN 

What gives most perplexity to the head of the poor 
child, are pronouns. ' Me, ' and ' I, ' especially remain a 
long time behind a cloud. As these words are alone ap- 
plicable to him who pronounces them, we do not employ 
them when we speak to the child of himself: without ever 
being the object of them, he sees them changing their 
object continually ; hence he has no idea of bringing them 
into use. When he wishes to designate his oAvn person, 
he considers himself, if I may use the expression, out of 
the body, and speaks of himself as another, using his o\vn 
name. ' Give to Albert, lead Albert,'* these are the ex- 
pressions he employs. I have heard a child who was al- 
ways spoken to in the second person, always use the sec- 
ond person in mentioning himself The introduction of 
' I ' would be curious to observe. 

On the other hand, such vestiges of the animal language 
as we have preserved in our idioms, the cries which we 
have adopted into the human language under the name of 
interjections, the child seizes upon and applies with won- 
derful quickness. The ' oh ! ' of unpleasant surprise ; is 
never confounded by him with the ' ah ! ' of pleasure, nor 



* In a letter from a friend now before me, she thus speaks of the 
attempts of her little son, two years old, in the use of language : — He 
is fond of the garden, and says, ' Baby go weed gargy ;' by night he 
is very tired with his day's work, and says, ' Ma' get chair, take 
baby, rock, shing.' — ' Thus I find,' continues our observing corres- 
pondent, ' that nouns and verbs pronounced after his own fashion, 
constitute his vocabulary, with the exception of an occasional adjec- 
tive, such as pretty puss, good Ma ! ' Many children in their first 
attempts to speak, call themselves ' baby,' speaking of themselves, 
as the author remarks, in the third person ; — one little girl, whose 
mother used caressingly to call her darling, took the loord, and 
modulating it to suit her own imperfect articulation, appropriated 
the cognomen of dogghj, much to the wonder and amusement of 
strangers, who would as vainly have sought for the origin, as we 
of many of the terms in our language. [Ed.] 



ACQUIRE LANGUAGE. 189 

with the reverential ' oh !' of prayer. Much time would 
pass away before we could philosophically explain all 
these ; but the young bird learns by intuition, the song of 
his mother. 

A question arose among several metaphysicians at the 
close of the last century. They asked how it was possi- 
ble that the child learns the use of generic names. That 
he attaches a sign to a definite object, could be conceived, 
but how comes he to apply it to a whole class of beings? 
How is it that he gives the name of dog, to all the spe- 
cies, hoAvever little resemblance they may bear to the first 
he has heard thus called ? Does he form general ideas ?* 
Does he know that the names of species, are applied to all 
individuals combining certain qualities, and does he ab- 
stractly consider these qualities, separating them from the 
subject that possesses them ? This would be a great ef- 
fort for a young mind. 

Nevertheless, such, by profound thinkers, is believed 



* The lady whose remarks upon her child's language, we have 
quoted in another note, says, — ' My little boy was much delighted 
a few days since with the sight of a chicken, the name of which 
we pronounced as we showed him the object. In his imperfect 
way, he imitated the word ; and when, the next day, he was carried 
into the poultry yard, Avhere M'ere many chickens, he at once called 
out tickee, tickee, having gone through with the mental process of 
generalizing, as well as he could have done under the tuition of 
Locke, or any other philosopher. Indeed, after all that is said about 
this wonderful process, it seems to me the simplest thing in the 
world. The child saw oTie chicken, and learned its name ; when he 
saw other animals like it, his mind instantly perceived the resem- 
blance, and he called them all chickens. And yet a process which 
is so e\ndently suggested by nature in this simple and intelligible 
manner, is, as I am informed by those better versed in speculative 
philosophy than myself, made an occasion for great disputation.' 
We think our friend's practical philosophy worth volumes of specu- 
lation. [Ed.] 



190 THE MEANS BY WHICH CHILDREN 

to be the fact ; but when metaphysicians have deigned to 
occupy themselves with young children, they have, in my 
opinion, attributed more of reason and less of intuition to 
them, than they possess. The following is the opinion of 
Locke on this subject, as it is cited with approbation by 
Condillac. 

* The ideas,' says he, ' that children form of the persons 
with whom they associate, are resemblances of the persons 
themselves, and are only particular ideas. The ideas 
which they form of their nurse and their mother, are dis- 
tinctly traced in their minds ; and, as so many faithful por- 
traits, represent only these individuals. The names that 
they give to them designate these individuals. Thus, the 
names of "nurse" and " mama," which children make use 
of, refer only to these persons. When, afterwards, time 
and a greater knowledge of the world, has led them to ob- 
serve that there are many other beings, who by certain 
common relations of face and other qualities, resemble 
their father, mother, and divers individuals whom they 
are accustomed to see, they form an idea in which they 
find all these beings equally participate, and they give to 
it, as others do, the name of man. Thus they come in 
possession of a generic name, and a general idea. In 
which they form nothing new, but separating only from 
the complex idea of Peter, James, Mary, and Elizabeth, 
that which was peculiar to each one of them, they retain 
only what is common to all.' 

I do not deny, assuredly, that this reasoning is]very log- 
ical, and I have nothing even to object to the early steps 
of it : the child begins by giving a name to a particular 
object, I acknowledge ; but the manner by which he passes 
from that to the general idea, appears to me, not to have 
been indicated to Locke by observation. To proceed by 
separation, by retrenchment, that is to say by abstraction, 
seems to me little conformed to the mind of the child. 



ACQUIRE LANGUAGE. 191 

When he begins to express himself with more facility, 
we shall see by the great number and singularity of his 
associations, that he is nearer being a poet, than an ana- 
lyst. The example chosen by Locke, is moreover one of 
the least fitted to enlighten the subject, since it is precisely 
in the case cited that a child would have the most trouble 
to generalize his ideas. The individuals he lives with, 
occupy so large a place in his mind ; he sees them so dis- 
tinctly separated from others, that he cannot consent to 
range them under the same denomination. A child of 
two years old, !would be astonished, he would laugh in 
derision, if any body should tell him that his father is ' a 
man.' What would he do, then, if w^e pretended, with 
Locke, that his mother is one also ? A man, is to him an 
unknown person — a passer-by of the lower class. He 
perceives undoubtedly that these unknown persons have 
certain relations between them ; but the particular idea of 
which Locke speaks, is too strong in him, and cannot 
stretch itself to generalization. 

At this age, however, and even still earlier, children are 
in the frequent use of general terms ; but the more vague 
the idea of the object first named to them, the easier it 
becomes to extend it to other objects. Thus the dogs 
and horses, which they see at a distance, and therefore 
indistinctly, easily form to them a species. So also when 
they take in, at a single glance, several similar objects, 
the particular idea of one among them not being so clearly 
traced in their mind, they easily transfer it to others like 
it, or only slightly different. Thus I have seen a chi^! 
who gave the name of apricots to all fruits — plums, cher- 
ries, gooseberries, grapes, &c ; — another who called by 
the same name two little girls dressed alike. In the first 
instance there is a simple awakening of ideas — it is sen- 
sation rather than judgment. In the other there is a strik- 
ing point of resemblance. We might suppose that the 



192 THE MEANS BY WHICH CHILDREN 

child is deceived, and that he thinks he sees an object al- 
ready known; but it is more correct to say that he thinks 
nothing — he does not decide whether the object is differ- 
ent, or the same ; but the act of recognition is produced.* 
This movement, prompt, unreflecting, almost mechanical, 
which combines the identity of the image we preserve, 
with that of the object which we see, is here the effect of 
a simple analog}' ; and is rather accidental, than the ope- 
ration of the mind. But when this operation commences ; 
when the examination is truly going on, differences are 
appreciated, and each one of the various objects, calls for 
its own sign. 

The first naturalists, it is well known, proceeded in the 
same way. They at first formed confused masses drawn 
from vaguely conceived relations, or what we call a fami- 
ly likeness. Thus they classed together under the names 
of monkeys, and parrots, animals that have since been dis- 
tributed into different groups. In proportion as we have 
more minutely observed, divisions and subdivisions have 
been multiplied. 

We ought not to confound, with the true act of gener- 
alization, the effect which the poverty of language natural- 
ly produces among uncivilized people. When there are 
but few words in an idiom, no word remains limited to its 
original meaning, and the name of a known object is given 



♦ When this was written, I was not acquainted with the work of 
M. Maine Biran, entitled ' Influence dc V Itabitiide sur la faculti de 
penser.^ The author, who analyzes with great sagacity, many psy- 
cological phenomena, expresses in scientific language, the same 
ideas which I have advanced. According to him, a striking quality 
in an object, may become a sign£ d. habitude, which mechanically 
draws together the apparition of certain qualities, or associated im- 
pressions. It is, sa5''s he in a note, on this first effect of the signes d' 
fiabihide, that is founded the prompt and natural conversion of in- 
dividual names into general and appellative terms. [Ed.] 



ACQUIRE LANGUAGE. 193 

all, slightly resembling it, which present themselves. 
Thus, an inhabitant of one of the Pelew Isles, the Prince 
Lee Boo, being arrived at Macao, and seeing there, for 
the first time, a horse, — immediately pronounced the name 
of dog, an animal he was already acquainted with. If 
the confused perceptions of the child, or the ignoVance of 
the savage led us to consider them as more inclined to 
generalize ideas, than adults, or men of cultivated minds, 
we should thereby contradict the whole history of the hu- 
man mind. Who does not know that the imagination is 
quick, and the mind but little capable of abstraction in the 
infancy of individuals, and of savage nations ! 

This applies also to what has been said by another met- 
aphysician, Thomas Reid, (Essay on the Intellectual 
Powers of Man, page 110, chapter V.) 'If it is asked at 
what age men begin to form general conceptions, I reply : 
As soon as a child can say, understandingly, that he has 
two brothers or two sisters. From the moment that he 
employs the plural, he must necessarily have general 
ideas ; for no single individual possesses the nature, or ad- 
mits the use of the plural.' 

Undoubtedly an individual, singly considered, cannot 
admit the use of the plural; but when the child sees two 
objects at once, the impression he receives is not the same, 
as when he perceives but one. To see two eyes in a 
face, or many soldiers in a battalion is not to possess gen- 
eral ideas ; it is a recognition of the likeness of the ob- 
jects which we take in at a single glance. Now, as the 
effect produced on the child by this compounded perception 
is new to him, he has read of a new way of designating 
it, and he then makes use of the plural.* 



* These are the ' id6es, concrclls,' of Charles Bonnet, those which 
represent collective names — flock, city, people, names which always 
17 



194 MEANS BY WHICH CHILDREN 

That the names of species, that terms which express 
the plural, are at length used by the child in the acquire- 
ment of true general ideas is perfectly correct. Language 
gradually gains a character in the mind ; it becomes in 
turn an object, and the attention which is required for its 
expression, ascends by the same process to abstraction, 
properly so called. 

The difference between children and ourselves, in this 
respect, seems to me to proceed from the great difference 
between our moral existence and theirs. Their life is 
constituted of images, impressions, and desires ; words oc- 
cupy but a very small place — the child makes use of 
them, but without reflecting on them. He sees things 
always in the same light, and consequently he possesses 
only particular ideas of them. Children have a wonder- 
ful faculty of association. Things link together, and re- 
ciprocally attract each other in their brain — one image 
awakens another, and language follows in their train. 
When this language passes from one object to another, it 
is by the influence of a relation less appreciated than felt, 
and the child perceives distinctly neither analogy, or dif- 
ference between them. 

With those who reflect, it is otherwise : general terms. 
such as that of species, designate a trait of resemblance 
perfectly defined. They collect, as in a bundle, the re- 
membrance of a multitude of individual names, and be- 
come a means by which the mind can easily manage a 
great mass of ideas. These terms become also a power- 



answer to the sensation produced by similar objects seen at once. 
This writer says that they, as well as simple ideas, are pure results 
of the action of objects upon the senses, and (like every thing 
which appertains to the primitive laws of our being,) absolutely in- 
dependent of all operations of the mind. Essai Analytiqvx sur les 
FacuUis de Vdtne. [Ed.] 



ACQUIRE LANGUAGE. 195 

ful aid to knowledge, an aid which has opened to man the 
way to the sciences, and has subjected to him the physical 
and moral world. But the more consequence we give to 
words in the exercise of thought, the more imagination 
retires, and its visions fade. The brilliant period of our 
existence is that when imagination and feeling, equally 
ardent and abounding, reciprocally act upon each other 
in harmonious beauty. When it is no longer thus, when 
the pictures of imagination are effaced, and the feelings 
which they excited grow cold ; then words reign alone, 
vain images of extinguished thoughts, deceitful represen- 
tations which soon cease to produce even illusion. Such 
would be the infallible act of age, if we did not preserve 
in the soul a focus of life and warmth. 

The physical faculties, all as remarkable in their kind 
as the moral, contribute to facilitate the child in the ap- 
prenticeship of language. This fact places in the strong- 
est light the beautiful experiments upon the deaf and dumb, 
published by M. Itard, an excellent observer, as well as a 
skilful physician.* After having given the detail of his 
experiments, this ingenuous man draws the following 
conclusion — ' Thus, says he^ we have an undeniable 
proof of that superiority of vocal imitation, which the child 
in infancy has over the adolescent — a superiority founded 
on two differences well ascertained and established by my 
own experience — from which it results, 1st, that the child 
imitates of his own accord, while it is necessary to excite 
the adolescent to imitation : 2d, that the child in order to 
speak, has only to hear ; while, to perform the same func- 
tion, the adolescent has need to listen and to look' 

We see afterwards, (page 502,) that M. Itard experienced 
some difficulty when he wished to have sounds emitted 

* Traite des maladies de 1' oreille et de I'audition t. 2, p. 381. 



196 THE MEANS BY WHICH CHILDREN 

and prolonged by the deaf and dumb, Avho had already, 
(thanks to him,) the ear tolerably formed, but who knew 
not how to govern their lungs and throat. It is necessary 
to read these curious details in the book itself, in order to 
comprehend what would be the art of speaking, if it was 
necessary to study it methodically without having had na- 
ture for our master in infancy. 

But with what pleasure, what astonishing rapidity, does 
the child advance in this study when once he has taken 
the first steps! Every day he makes use of new terms, 
he attempts longer phrases. The amusement that he 
finds in speaking is inexhaustible. When he sees a thing 
that interests him, he repeats twenty times that he has 
seen it, with a satisfaction of which we can have no idea. 
He relates to himself what pleases him, — the power of thus 
prolonging the impression enchants him, and pride min- 
gled with joy, beams in his eyes. 

If the difficulty of articulating sounds stops him, he la- 
bors hard, perhaps reddens, till he has given utterance to 
the word. At first it costs him but little trouble, but by 
degrees it becomes more difficult ; the accentuated syllable 
which, in the beginning, had alone excited his attention, 
is successively accompanied by all the others. He cor- 
rects himself, and does not find that amusement in mang- 
ling words,* of which children become but too sensible 
afterwards : the satisfaction of speaking like grown people 
is sufficient. 



* On this point, we cannot but make a passing remark. The 
lisping and broken articulation of infancy is pleasant to us, and we 
are too apt to let children see that it is so ; nay, we often speak to 
them ourselves in broken and inaccurate language ; — but when we 
reflect upon the importance of their early acquiring their vernacu- 
lar tongue in its purity, we shall surely be careful how we confirm 
them in habits, which it will be difficult, if not impossible, wholly to 
change in more mature years. [Ed.] 



ACQTJIRE LANGUAGE. 197 

The child is so much oftener excited by pleasure, than 
by want, that he makes much longer speeches when hap- 
py than when grieved. He becomes eloquent when ani- 
mated by gaiety or hope, but when affected by the contra- 
ry, he does nothing but murmur ; and his talents vanish, 
with his enjoyment. 

It seems, then, that this may be a particular dispensation 
of Providence, in order that the child might learn to speak ; 
therefore, the gifts which he has received, transient as they 
are remarkable, have already lost their first virtue when 
his mind is more developed. Children of five or six 
years learn but few words. We see when they begin to 
read, that they do not comprehend a multitude of terms 
which are frequently used before them in conversation. 
We could tell at once that they have acquired their little 
treasure of words ; they repose themselves, and seek no 
longer. They know how to give names to the portion of 
the universe which interests them, and what exists beyond 
they do not care for. A sort of instinct induces them 
often to repel the new acquisitions which would interfere ei- 
ther with their joy or their peace. They are content — why 
should they ask more? Their happiness is as secure as 
if in the bosom of an enchanted island ; and the waves of 
the external world rage unperceived around them. 

Facility of expression, which is very unequal in children, 
is not generally proportioned to the measure of their intel- 
ligence. An agreeable and rapid elocution frequently 
proves nothing but the talent of retaining set phrases ; 
whilst a manner of speaking more laborious and less reg- 
ular, denotes mental exertion and care to make expression 
correspond with thought.* In the last case there is not 

* Teachers are oflen deceived in the capacities of their pupils by 
this difference ; and should therefore be very careful how they de- 
cide that one has talents because he is flippant, and another is dull, 
because he finds it difficult to speak with fluency. [Ed.] 
17* 



198 THE MEANS BY WHICH CHILDREN 

less to hope for the future; — not but the memory of 
words is in itself a valuable faculty ; but because it often 
exempts from the combination of ideas, those who have no 
taste for this particular exercise of the mind. 

In the same way that a single sign may be used by 
children to designate several objects, a single object is often 
represented in their minds by different signs. Thus they 
learn divers languages with extreme facility. Sounds are 
connected in their memory like images ; and a word 
leading in its train all the words by which it has been ac- 
companied, dialects are not jumbled together in their lit- 
tle discourses. Above all, there is no risk of confusion, 
when the same person always addresses the child in the 
same language. The idea of this person then connecting 
itself in his memory with that of a certain manner of 
speaking, he employs this manner in reply. 

This is unquestionably an easy means of facilitating to 
the child an important acquisition ; but I do not believe 
that there results from it any great development of intelli- 
gence; at least it would not be at all comparable to that 
which may be obtained from the regular study of a lan- 
guage. It is doubtful whether the purely practical know- 
ledge of a dialect contributes much to form the mind. 
Thus we do not see that the inhabitants of frontier countries, 
who alwa3'-s know two languages at once, have more 
ingenious minds than other men. And among the people 
of the north, where children learn from the cradle to ex- 
press themsel ves in several dialects, transcendent geniuses 
do not seem to be more abundant than elsewhere, although 
there is generally a facility of comprehension which is 
very remarkable. We should find there facts, which it 
would be very interesting to observe in relation to this 
subject. The union of thought and language is so inti- 
mate, that the effects of their first association would not be 
indifferent. The influence of a polyglot education would 
consequently be useful to study. 



ACQUIRE LANGUAGE. 199 

But the habit of speaking the mother tongue correctly, 
will always be the most essential for children. A fault, 
which although not considered serious, is nevertheless dif- 
ficult to repair in education, is that of neglecting to employ, 
in relation to this, the gifts so peculiar to infancy. The 
ancients had not this error to reproach themselves with ; 
and the care that they bestowed upon enunciation from the 
cradle actually appears trifling and pedantic. But, in 
countries above all Avhere pronunciation is vicious, and 
the expressions often so, the like care would be a happy 
corrective to the evil effect of example. The point in 
question is not only what is agreeable, but that which pos- 
sesses the most powerful means of influencing the imag- 
ination it cannot be considered frivolous to know. Lan- 
guage is the expression of the soul, and what empire over 
the happiness and morality of others, do we not exert by 
means of it ! 



( 200 ) 



BOOK III. 



CHAPTER I. 



OF THE HABITS AT TWO YEARS OLD. 

"Cliiltlren forget injunctions and rules of conduct; it is necesary, 
therefore, to make them perform indispensable duties, until they 
form habits independent of Memory." — Locke. 

It is necessary to take advantage of the character of in- 
fancy, while it is in its purity. In a short time every 
thing is adulterated, every thing is changed ; we can no 
longer distinguish what is natural, from what is acquired ; 
the voluntary from the constrained movement. Children 
soon feel a kind of shame at their singularities : they con- 
ceal or repress the impressions which they have no hope 
of seeing participated ; and they look in our faces in order 
to discover what they ought to feel. The principal traits 
of infancy, however, are not so soon effaced as we think, 
and the traces of them remain unperceived. One may 
live a long time with a little savage who is in a degree 
outwardly civilized ; but in order to know him well, it is 
necessary to observe him before he has made any advan- 
ces in civilization. 



i 



OF THE HABITS AT TWO YEARS OLD. 201 

This study is less easy than it appears to be: before the 
child knows how to speak, every thing seems confused in 
his existence. His sense of perception, that by which he 
connects and compares ideas, differs from ours in the high- 
est degree ; but whatever may be its nature, we know it 
not ; and it presents in the child, as well as in animals, a 
problem at once interesting, and impossible to resolve. 
When afterwards we converse freely with him, and he 
might serve to enlighten us himself, that which distin- 
guishes him from us is no longer so striking ; and the 
child, in appearance at least, already too much resembles 
man. There is then a short interval more instructive 
than all others to the observer, — that, in which genuine 
infancy exists, and unveils itself; it is the age between two 
and four years. At that time the child is not yet upon 
his guard, and his natural instincts, still in their original 
vigor, seem to be even powerfully developed ; actions the 
most numerous and diversified serve to interpret them. 
Our social state is as yet but little comprehended by the 
child, and he might inhabit another world as well as ours. 
To see how he insensibly adopts our ideas ; how his will, 
violent and impatient, gradually submits to the yoke of 
example and of reason ; how his young faculties, joined 
to the dawning light of conscience, contribute, each one 
following its natural course, to lay in him the foundation 
of morality, — is a curious examination, fitted to reveal to 
us an admirable dispensation of Providence, a design that 
we have only to conceive of in order to respect it. 

Following the order of time, we shall first consider the 
period when the soul has as yet no control over itself; 
when the will, although apparently active, is truly pas- 
sive ; since, yielding to the strongest inclination, it renders 
obedience only to a blind impulse. In this state we gov- 
ern children through the medium of their habits, the nat- 
ural effects of our care and regularity. This means, which 



202 OF THE HABITS AT TWO YEARS OLD. 

is gentle, altliough a little mechanical, ought unquestion- 
ably not to be alone employed; but how shall we avoid 
making use of it ? Habits are the necessary result of ed- 
ucation, for we cannot prevent them from becoming form- 
ed, except by an unequal and capricious conduct — the 
example of which would be infallibly imitated. 

A remark, which may seem a little paradoxical, is, that 
the younger the child, the more his habits appertain to 
his moral nature, to his soul. As he does not yet act by 
his own power, he can only be accustomed to anticipate. 
He waits for a certain succession of events, and his habits 
partake only of fears and hopes: it is, consequently, over 
the desires, the tastes, and the temper that their influence 
is exerted ; and we do not see the little beings performing 
a routine of actions void of thought, so as to give the idea 
of mechanism. It is but a little later, when activity dis- 
plays itself, and the pleasure attached to certain actions 
begins to operate, that the soul can in any degree remain 
uninfluenced by the movements which had at first gov- 
erned it. Habits, then, have not, in earliest infancy, the 
inconvenience which appears most inevitably attached to 
them, that of benumbing the faculties ; and the extreme 
pliability of children remains with them long enough to 
enable us to mould them to circumstances. 

There is, then, in the education of infancy, judiciously 
conducted, an advantage, secondary it is true, but almost 
impossible to supply, that of accustoming the child to ful- 
fil his duties, without thinking of that multitude of actions 
which merit not to be thought of, and which, however, 
have their utility. In giving him habits of care to per- 
form certain obligations, in some degree essentia], — such 
as those imposed by our physical nature, and the tacit 
agreement of society, is in effect to relieve the soul from 
this care for the future. The more we take advantage of 
the instinct of imitation in relation to this, the more we 



OF THE HABITS AT TWO YEARS OLD. 203 

shall spare ourselves the chagrin of having to prescribe as 
duties, things which are not so, and which, notwithstand- 
ing, are almost indispensable. This is to render to the 
pupil an invaluable service. What embarrassment! 
what awkwardness ! what loss of time and thought, are 
suffered even among men, by doubts with regard to the 
propriety of the smallest acts ! 

This same faculty of association which facilitates to the 
child the acquirement of language, gives birth to habits. 
When the course of his life is very regular, his desires 
succeed each other in an almost settled order, awakening 
in him the image of certain objects, which have become 
necessary to his enjoyment. No image is solitary in his 
mind — the frame-work, the appendages are not separated 
from the principal subject, but make part of the idea that 
he forms of it. I have seen a "child of nine months old 
weep bitterly, and refuse his breakfast, because the cup 
and saucer and the spoon were not in their accustomed 
position. By taking advantage of this disposition in little 
children, we might easily give them the love of order. 
The desire of seeing every thing ranged in its place, be- 
comes natural to them, if we but manifest it in the slight- 
est degree ourselves. When we think of the bitter re- 
grets which the absence of orderly habits brings in its 
train, Ave ought the more assiduously to endeavor to instil 
them into children. A vague idea of duty is associated 
with them — and duty is itself perhaps but moral order of 
the highest kind. 

The love of neatness has the same source: a spot is a 
derangement, a disorder. The natural disgust which is 
associated with it adds the repugnance of the senses to 
that of the mind. Modesty is also of the same family, and 
there is nothing easier than to inspire in children that 
instinctive modesty, which, when stripped of design, is but 
the more innocent. 



204 OF THE HABITS AT TWO YEARS OLD. 

This last object, too much neglected in early infancy, 
is, notwithstanding, very important. At the risk of appear- 
ing absurd, I will say that it is especially so for young 
boys. Custom alone so severely imposes the law of de- 
corum upon young girls, that, unless from singular neg- 
lect, their manners in early life are not exposed to any 
danger. But it is not the same with regard to men; 
schools are a peril to them, and the manner in which the 
child is affected by bad examples, depends entirely upon 
his first impressions. Mothers ought, therefore, to be at- 
tentive, they ought to inspect the nurse, and not permit her 
to associate in the mind of the child the idea of pleasure 
with indecency. The care of his own person should be 
confided to him as early as possible, and he should attend 
to its requirements in solitude. From that time he often 
acquires a modesty apprehensive and almost severe ; but 
how can we fear the excess of a quality, which is so near- 
ly allied to dignity of soul ? 

There are sentiments of morality apparently of the most 
elevated kind, which proceed from a simple association of 
ideas, and consequently from habit : such is respect for 
the property of another. The child lives much through 
the medium of his eyes ; the objects which he constantly 
sees about the person that he loves, make part of herself 
in his memory ; the clothes, the little appendages which 
she uses, are of great consequence in his estimation; he 
thinks of her accompanied by her attributes, as we see 
the heathen gods ; and when he observes that she alone 
makes use of these objects, he is persuaded that they be- 
come a part of her. He is even jealous of them for her 
sake, guards them like a faithful dog, and prevents others 
from approaching them. I have seen a little girl of eigh- 
teen months old, who would weep if any one touched the 
basket of her nurse, in walking. One day, when the same 
child saw a woman whom she did not know, carry a dress 



OF THE HABITS AT TWO YEARS OLD. 205 

of her mother's from the house, she uttered loud cries — a 
scene which was repeated on the morrow. Since then 
she has manifested inquietude at the sight of strangers, 
and when they depart with empty hands, she conducts 
them with an affected politeness, that but ill conceals her 
relief 

This sentiment which is easily increased by exercise, 
may give a precocious integrity to very young children. 
They possess it naturally, and can transfer it from one 
person to another; being different in this respect from 
dogs, who have a regard for their master alone, and then 
only when they have been trained. Children of eighteen 
months at the English school in Spitalfields, do not touch 
the fruits of the garden ; and respect the little appropriated 
grounds of their companions. It is true that the masters 
set them a good example in this respect, and that they 
never fail in restoring to the pupils their little playthings 
after they have been sometimes deprived of them. This 
precaution is very necessary, not only on account of the 
powerful influence of the imitative instinct, but because it 
may be possible to communicate the precious quality of 
complaisance. It is only when the child is perfectly se- 
cure from the fear of losing his own property, that it gives 
him pleasure to make others enjoy it. He is sometimes 
led by it to consider the right of lending, or of giving, as 
the happiest privilege attached to possession ; and the 
spirit of preservation may be even connected in his mind 
with that of generosity. 

The sentiment of general benevolence, which we should 
endeavor to maintain, conducts so naturally to habits of 
politeness, that we may almost lay aside the task of form- 
ing them. It is only essential to strengthen them, before 
timidity, the consequence of a self-love which is more de- 
veloped, begins to manifest itself Nevertheless, if the 
course of a truly religious education was thoroughly 
18 



206 OF THE HABITS AT TWO YEARS OLD. 

followed, the child would pass insensibly from sympathy 
to charity, to the love of others ; and savage pride or ir- 
ritable vanity would not arise in him. 

It is thus, that those qualities which are the happy fruits 
of first habits, become confounded with natural qualities, 
and that a similar charm is attached to them. We pos- 
sess them modestly, without supposing that we could do 
otherwise than possess them ; and he who would trace 
them back to their origin, might see with gratitude one 
of the greatest and most incontestible benefits that he could 
owe to education. 



( 207 ) 



CHAPTER II. 



HABIT OF OBEDIENCE. 



" The duty of obedience, is the only one comprehended by little 
children." — Elizabeth BUmilton. 

Of all the habits of childhood, the most necessary to 
form is that of obedience, since by means of it, we can 
make or break, at will, all others. I here regard docility 
as the result of habit ; although we might present it un- 
der an aspect more elevated, and consider it as a moral 
obligation. But at the tender age of which I speak, the 
practice -of obedience gradually awakens the idea of duty; 
whilst the idea of duty cannot as yet impose obedience. 

In consulting observation, we see that there exists in 
children an innate instinct of independence; it is also from 
dispositions equally natural that their will submits to ours, 
at least when we conduct ourselves with consistency and 
firmness. They often adopt our desires through sympa- 
thy ; besides, they have often proved that it is useless to 
resist us, and they at length feel that they belong to us, 
and rejoice that they do. A little girl of a year old, no 
sooner has a doll, than she regards it as her child, judging 
that this tie of the heart renders her possession more com- 
plete. So children soon comprehend that they are our 



208 HABITS OF CHILDREN. 

property ; they see our love and solicitude, and this proves 
to them that they are of all things most precious to us. 

From a similar idea, imperfectly conceived, no doubt, 
it follows that little children find naturally enough, that 
we forbid them from certain acts. As it is often done for 
their preservation, and sometimes for that of the material 
objects which belong to us, there is nothing in the prohi- 
bitions which astonish them, although they are constantly 
forgetting them. But it is not the same with orders ; they 
have more difficulty in comprehending them, and are less 
docile in conforming to them ; and notwithstanding they 
are often more agreeable, the commandment requires an 
action whilst the prohibition interdicts one. Then if the 
action is of a nature to please them, it is sufficient merely 
to indicate it. To enjoin imperatively upon a little child 
to execute an order repugnant to him, would be uselessly 
to compromise our authority, which as yet is scarcely es- 
tablished. 

Such a distinction would not be on the whole admissi- 
ble, since the principal design for which authority is con- 
fided to us, the safety of the child, demands that we have 
the poAver of commanding, as well as forbidding ; but it 
seems, hoAvever, that in the difference of his submission in 
the two cases, there is a discernment sufficiently refined 
for the legitimate rights of a free being. The child is 
weak, he is helpless ; we can deprive him of every taxing, 
even dispose of his person, because he has not the means 
of resisting ; but his soul is independent. We cannot 
make him act in defiance of himself, and he is astonished 
at the attempt. There is a degree of nobleness in this 
sentiment, a germ of dignity which ought not to be sup- 
pressed with violence. To reconcile in the mind of the 
child respect for firmness of character, with the necess- 
ity of obtaining obedience from him, is perhaps one of the 
difficulties of education, but not an insurmountable one. 



HABITS OF CHILDREN. 209 

Indeed, if the docility of infancy is composed of elements 
the purest and most natural, there is nothing degrading to 
the soul in such a disposition. Sympathy is a principle 
exempt from baseness: to abstain from a useless effort is 
the counsel of a dawning reason, perfectly conformed to 
our reason : to believe that he belongs to his parents, is 
the effect of a tender confidence in the child, Avhich will 
at some future day be the source of filial devotion, a sub- 
lime and touching principle, the only one among the hu- 
man virtues that can merit the name of piety. A recip- 
rocal possession, if I may so speak, is the distinctive char- 
acter of that intimate relation of father and son, a relation 
unique in the world for its sanctity, for the depth and dis- 
interestedness of the sentiments which belong to it. 

Thus, a long time before the period when the child 
can be responsible for his motives, we may, Avithout bring- 
ing fear into action, or touching any other spring than 
that of sympathy and the most simple foresight, we may, 
I say, give him the habit of docility. From that time 
notwithstanding the vicissitudes and the tumults which 
our imperfect wisdom cannot, or does not know how al- 
ways to prevent, we are generally in possession of power, 
and it only remains to us to use it well. 

It is astonishing that any distinction has been made m 
this respect between the interests of children and our own, 
since these interests must be the same in all cases. Ex- 
cessive severity constitutes the torment of fathers and chil- 
dren in every family where it exists, as much as the exer- 
cise of a sweet and gentle authority sheds peace and hap- 
piness around it. 

Docility, it is said by some, has but a temporary merit : 
it is not in itself a virtue, because the child is not destined 
to yield forever, nor to yield to all the world. 

This last point is assuredly indisputable ; but after all, 
the child ought always to be obedient to something, and 
18* 



210 HABITS OF CHILDREN 

never make his caprice his only law. Man in infancy- 
obeys his parents ; then, the idea of duty that they have 
instilled into him ; and after that, the simple idea of duty, 
which has acquired an independent growth within him. 
The object of obedience alone changes, the virtue remains. 

But even if we refuse to it this great name ; if submis- 
sion be but the necessary condition on which to receive 
the benefits of education, still it would be necessary that 
this condition be fulfilled. Without the full enjoyment 
of authority, the parents would not be able to acquit them- 
selves of their noble task. Tell them to use power with 
moderation, with justice; but if you should go to them and 
deprive them of its possession, their responsibility would 
be annulled.* 

That there existed in life an imperious obligation, a 
duty august and sacred, without a legitimate means for 
performing it, would be in itself contradictory. Now 
there is nothing which can be more seriously imposed on 
us, both by divine and human laws, than the care of bring- 
ing up our children. All benefits of which we can form 



* It is not left for ihe parent to choose between the exercise of his 
power over his child, and its abdication. Kings may lay aside 
their sceptres, but the authority of the parent is a divine right, a 
delegation from on high, and must be maintained, however disagree- 
able the duty may sometimes prove. Teachers as well as parents, 
must, when occasion calls, assert their authority. They must gov- 
ern, or be themselves despised and trampled upon by those, who are 
penetrating enough to see that a shadow of power, without energy, 
is contemptible. No one ever gained the affections of the young, 
by thus shrinking to fulfil all the obligations which the care and ed- 
ucation of others imposes. But it is seldom that a firm, decided, 
energetic government does not obtain more than respect from those 
who are the subjects of it ; if combined with affection and gentle- 
ness of manners, it will always secure love in hearts capable of af- 
fection. [Ed.] 



HABITS OF CHILDREN, 211 

any idea, safety, health, instruction, a good conscience, 
the love of others, we ought as much as possible to give 
to the enjoyment of our children. We are answerable for 
these cherished beings before God and the world ; and would 
authority, the only simple means of fulfilling our obliga- 
tions, be refused to us ? And would not nature, in deliv- 
ering them to us, feeble, naked, without reason, and with- 
out knowledge, but lay a snare for us ? She would have 
endowed us with all kinds of superiority in order to re- 
duce us to the employment of artifice ! Virtue, knowledge 
would suffice no longer ! It would be necessary to have 
the subtlety of a diplomatist, and the talent of a comedian, 
to invent, prepare, and enact scenes in order to accomplish 
our best projects ; to obtain the smallest concessions from 
infancy ! Ah ! if it were necessary to renounce truth, 
paternity would be purchased at too dear a price ! 

I am yet speaking merely of the first rudiments of obe- 
dience; but when I develope this great subject, we shall 
see how those methods of persuasion, by which we often 
attempt to obtain an influence over the will in education, 
are false, weak, and absurd. We shall see how seldom 
children are duped by them ; and that the conflict which 
takes place between them and us, together with the dis- 
sim.ulation and reciprocal indecision which result from it, 
are destructive even to the energy which we had designed 
to establish by our management. The troubles arising 
from a harsh and despotic education, are great ; but the 
fault of enervating the will, cannot be laid to its charge. 
An old sergeant, who has all his life been obedient to his 
captain, fails not in firmness with his soldiers ; these, re- 
stored to their homes, have habits rather too imperious ; 
and in the energecic ages, the power of parents over chil- 
dren was unlimited. The strength of the will, like most 
of our qualities, is propagated by example, and it possesses 
the same indecision, the same artifice, the same love of 
procrastination. 



212 HABITS OF CHILDREN. 

But what decides the question is, that if parents aban- 
don their rights in theory, they resume them when neces- 
sary in practice ; and that such an opinion, if adopted, 
would bring with it but contradictions and inconsistencies. 
Never will they renounce the exercise of their authority ; 
in this relation they cannot renounce it ; love is too great, 
the interest too lively, the responsibility too strong. They 
will not abjure human nature. When have we seen men 
abstain from the exercise of power, when they are not re- 
strained either by fear, or respect to mankind, or by con- 
science ? And let us not believe that a frigid system of 
education, can ever penetrate into the recesses of the heart. 
Rousseau has in vain alarmed you on the lawfulness of 
your empire ; as soon as your child shall expose himself, 
I do not say to a real danger, but to a slight inconvenience, 
imagining, perhaps, when he shall only importune you to 
a certain point, you will take him in your arms, you will 
carry him. Your scruples, your resolutions, your prin- 
ciples, drawn from Emilie will be forgotten, and nature 
will triumph. I shall do wrong then, you will say. Yes, 
undoubtedly ; but the real wrong is, to have adopted prin- 
ciples which your holiest duties as well as your most ra- 
tional sentiments oblige you to violate. 

That a child who has not been early imbued with the 
idea that the paternal will is something sacred, that a child 
whom we have treated as an equal, in reasoning with 
him. in persuading him, sees something odious in the bru- 
tal abuse of force, is certainly not astonishing. The em- 
ployment of reason supposes, in the being to whom it is 
addressed, a right not to be convinced; that of solicitation, 
a right not to attempt the thing which they engage to do : 
there is then treachery in your conduct, and rebellion ; 
frequently the loud cries of the child, will show that he 
feels it to be so. You must expect that whenever in fu- 
ture you recommence a course of reasoning, he will antici- 



HABITS OF CHILDREN. 213 

pate the result, and will listen to you but just so far as it 
is necessary to put you in the wrong, by refuting you. 
Hence proceeds an insupportable relationship, — that of a 
father and child, each timid and hypocritical in his man- 
ner ; each aiming to obtain his desire, without coming to 
the point ; distrustful of each other, and finishing by ill- 
humor or by open rupture. This last result is in fact 
that which is most pleasing to the child. In order to 
punish you, he obliges you to use violence, and compels 
you to be a tyrant, for the want of knowing how to be a 
father. Chicanery, selfishness, caprice, obstinacy, although 
destitute of real firmness, are, alas ! the too ordinary fruits 
of this imperfect subordination. 

Too rigorous heretofore, domestic discipline, is now, 
perhaps, too much weakened : if its principle is changed, 
if it is no longer that of submission to power, it ought to be 
that of submission to duty. It should be governed by a 
spirit more pure, more moral — that respect for the pa- 
ternal will, which expresses to the child the will of God. 

There is, in the education of infancy, a principal idea 
which ought to predominate over all others, and serve as 
a rallying point to them. This idea is that of protec- 
tion. Let the mother, (since in speaking of very young 
children, it is to her especially that I address myself,) let 
the mother invest herself strongly with this principle, and 
the whole system of her conduct will be regulated by it. 
She wdll see the happiest proportions established between 
severity, and indulgence — between love and firmness. 
Without love, protection is not vigilant ; it will not extend 
over the happiness, over all the interests of the young ex- 
istence: without firmness and the degree of severity 
which necessarily accompanies it, it is no longer protec- 
tion. That which yields, cannot serve as a support ; and 
the child wants to be supported. Not only has he need 
of it, but he desires it j his most constant tenderness is 



214 HABITS OF CHILDREN. 

purchased only at this price. If you are to him in effect 
like another child, if you partake his passions, his contin- 
ual changes, if you participate all his emotions, increasing 
them whether it be by contradiction, or by an excess of 
complaisance — he will be able to use you as a plaything, 
but not to be happy in your presence : he will weep, he 
will mutiny, and a season of disorder and ill-humor will 
be connected with your idea. You have not been the 
protector of your child, you have not preserved him from 
that perpetual fluctuation of the will, which is the malady 
of feeble beings who are the sport of a feeble imagination ; 
you have neither secured his peace, his wisdom, or his 
happiness — why should he believe you to be his mother? 

In truth the laws we shall impose will lead to contradic- 
tions, and will associate the idea of evil, with certain ac- 
tions in themselves innocent. But at the age of which I 
speak, he does not yet act from the knowledge of good 
and evil. The question is not, to enlighten the conscience 
but to accustom the child to listen to its voice such as it 
is. He has a morality derived from sympathy, the only 
one he can have. Good, with him, is to satisfy those he 
loves ; evil, to be blamed by them ; the poor child knows 
nothing more of either. Even if he has done nothing, he 
believes himself culpable, if he sees in the eyes of his 
mother the expression of discontent ; and if he has caused 
real sorrow, if in a moment of impatience he has struck 
her, his repentance amounts almost to despair. On a sim- 
ilar occasion I have seen a little child, who, without being 
threatened or even rebuked, renounced all his plays, and, 
his heart bursting with grief, went to conceal himself in 
an obscure corner, with his face turned against the wall. 

Inconstant and variable as this sentiment is, it is, nev- 
ertheless, the first dawning of conscience. The desire of 
agreeing with his mother, will become in the child the 
love of duty, the wish to harmonize with God, with that 



HABITS OF CHILDREN. 215 

which can best represent him to us upon earth. This senti- 
ment may be indeed exhausted by making- too frequent 
and injudicious calls upon it, in the same way that the 
body is enfeebled by want of aliment, exercise, and social 
intercourse ; but this is the fate of all sentiments belong- 
ing to this world. All wither in inaction, as they wear 
out by an imprudent and premature excitement. A child, 
in whom the germ of conscience which exists in him 
has not been cultivated, does not possess moral life. 

To abstain, as Rousseau would have us, from imposing 
any duty upon the child, before he had a knowledge of 
the various social relations upon which his duties were 
founded, would be to dissolve the most intimate and sacred 
of these relations. At the age when the young man 
knows exactly how to define the origin of family relations, 
and their influence upon the organization of society, he 
can almost do without his parents, and is no longer united 
to them by the tie of necessity. It would besides be to 
deviate from the natural path, which Rousseau intends to 
follow so closely. Nature brings the affections into play, 
a long time before reason ; she does not proceed in me- 
thodical order : in her we can take hold of no beginning, 
we cannot take her by surprise in her creations, and she 
always seems but to develope. In the child every thing is 
in the germ, nothing is yet expanded; the important point 
is to teach him to act for him.self To suppose in him 
principles, sentiments, and sometimes even knowledge 
which he has not acquired, is often the best way of com- 
municating all these in education. 

In coming to the application, I shall here indicate the 
best means of obtaining early obedience. In the begin- 
ning, while the habits, yet passive, consist in the expec- 
tation of our actions, the important point for us, is uniform- 
ity of conduct. We ought to guard the child from surprises 
which shock him, and rudely break the course of his 



216 HABITS OF CHILDREN. 

impressions. When the preparations for our designs per- 
mit him to discover them, our intention, if always accom- 
plished, will gradually become a law to him. In the same 
manner that he has ceased to oppose our projects, he will 
afterwards renounce the execution of his own, if he can 
with certainty foresee our opposition. It is, at first, ac- 
tions alone which establish our authority, for our words 
produce no effect on little children, but when they an- 
nounce our conduct. ' My dear, I am going to take 
away this knife from you^ gradually becomes ' J^ay down 
the knife;'' and one is equivalent to the other. We ought 
not to prohibit what we cannot prevent, but we ought al- 
ways to prevent what we have begun to prohibit. To 
order active obedience, is, as I have said, dangerous to au- 
thority ; and even with regard to prohibitions it is useless 
to hope that the child will at first believe them permanent ; 
he will see only the expression of your will for the mo- 
ment. In vain have you wished to fetter him for the fu- 
ture : he does not comprehend your claims. ' You must 
never climb upon the chairs,' is to him, ' I wish you not 
to climb upon this chair now.' He will also disobey you 
a long time, without real rebellion, in your presence, and 
with greater inducement away from you, because he fears 
nothing but your displeasure. But when he shall have 
often associated the idea of your disapprobation, with that 
of a certain act, he will at length abstain from performing 
it. And if he passes from your hands only into those of 
a person, who prevents the same things, by the same means 
as yourself, by degrees he will feel himself under the 
dominion of a law, which will control him even in thought. 
It is above all necessary, when you would obtain sub- 
mission, to beware of playfulness. This supposes equali- 
ty, and as soon as w^e laugh, we may resign our authority. 
Sport often with your child — manifest to him the tender- 
est love — but, when once obedience is demanded, smile 



HABITS OF CHILDREN. 217 

no longer ; caress no longer, do not even solicit. You 
exercise a sacred right — and the feeling of this right is 
weakened in the soul of your child, as well as in yours, 
whenever you employ such various resources. 

Children will attempt, in a thousand ways, to accomplish 
their little projects, or to disarm your resistance. En- 
ticement, importunity, buffoonery, all are[in turn employed 
by them. We often see them venturing a succession of 
contradictions, so graduated that we cannot find a moment 
to stop them. These attempts are owing to our feeble,' 
and undecided manner of commanding. We have spoken 
lightly, and have been lightly listened to. Before pro- 
nouncing any command, it is necessary that a greater 
seriousness, something more imposing in the countenance, 
should announce to the child that the mother speaks, and 
that the companion of his sports has disappeared. An 
expression of decision and calmness is then important, 
if, instead of elevating the voice, we suddenly depress it, 
we seem to address that which is the most closly connect- 
ed with the child, his conscience. 

The following is a penal code for children of two years 
old, the observance of which might save severer measures. 

Disobedience caused by forgetfulness. Opposition to 
the continuance of the act, renewing the prohibition of it 
amicably. Disobedience a little more voluntary. Assume 
a serious air, and inform the child that if he repeats it, you 
will deprive him of the means of disobeying. Disobedi- 
ence entirely voluntary. Put the threat in execution, by 
making, silently, such material arrangements as shall ren- 
der disobedience impossible. 

In this last case, the child ordinarily assumes ill-humor : 
he seeks to punish you ; he caresses with affectation some 
other person ; in short, he endeavors in every way to diso- 
blige you. If he does not exceed the prescribed limits, 

you will take no notice of his intention ; but if he is decided 
19 



218 HABITS OF CHILDREN, 

upon rebellion ; if, vexed that you persist in not observ- 
ing his light faults, he is determined to commit greater 
ones ; then, since all the actions of the child are reprehen- 
sible, you determine to put an end to them at once. With- 
out saying a word, you take the little culprit by the hand, 
and with seriousness and firmness seat him in a chair, or, 
if you think proper, confine him in some other place. It is 
then curious to observe how he mingles the bursting forth 
of his cries, with a secret triumph that he has at last suc- 
ceeded in moving you. Render this triumph as small as 
possible, by preserving a perfect calm. This, by the way, 
shows the danger of anger ; which if indulged, would 
give at once a bad example, and an unhallowed pleasure 
to the child. Return quietly to your occupations, and be 
assured that tears will soon cease, or change their nature : 
in a short time, there will be a faint appeal to your com- 
miseration, and the least regard to it will determine the 
culprit to throw himself in your arms. There will then 
be a moment of overflowing tears, and a reconciliation 
tender and cordial. The child will say that he is sorry ; 
a word more easily obtained, and more sincerely pro- 
nounced, than a sad demand for pardon. You want the 
expression of tender regret, that of a real return to good 
temper; you seek not the humiliation of your child. 



* 



* We agree with the author, that it is not generally best to require 
of very young children positive duties; and yet this may sometimes 
be necessary. Difficult cases of government occasionally arise from 
this necessity. Mrs. L. was teaching her little daughter, between 
two and three years old, to count upon her fingers; the child went 
on veiy well to ten ; here she stopped ; the mother said ' ten, ' and 
added ' you must remember the next time;— it is the little finger, 
and when you call the one before it nine, you will then think of 
ten.' The process of coimting was recommenced, but having said 
nine, the child laughed and atfected ignorance — the mother began 
to look serious, and said ' ten,' which the child repeated several 



HABITS OF CHILDREN. 219 

We here see how words and actions may be succes- 
sively employed to great advantage ; when they are not 



times successively after her. But, so often as the counting was re- 
newed, the child stopped at ten, waiting for her mother to tell her. 
At first, the mother thought she might have forgotten, but being at 
length convinced that she was obstinate, she began to treat her with 
severity. Telling her in the first place that she should punish her 
if she refused to call the ten when she came to it, and at length seat- 
ing her in disgrace at a distance from herself After a long course 
of discipline, varied in different ways, the little girl, who had main- 
tained perfect self-command, said, 'I will be good, I will count ten,, 
She then began, and when she came to this number, as if making 
a violent effort to conquer herself, she said ' ten,' and burst into a vi- 
olent fit of weeping. Her mother soothed her, and told her how 
much better it was to be obedient than to be wilful, and how she 
had been pained to be obliged to punish her. She then required that 
she should repeat the counting many times, in order to confirm her 
obedience. Soon after, the child's aimt, Mrs. W., entered the room 
and her mother desired that she would show her aunt how many 
she could count ; the child began, but when she had said nine, her 
face reddened, and her countenance expressed the same determi- 
nation^as she had before shown; ' What is the next. Mama '?' said 
she. Her aunt who understood the case, said. Come with me, and 
took the child into her apartment, considering very properly that the 
last offence was towards herself. Several hours of probation did 
the little creature suffer before she would again yield. Yet she was 
calm, very polite, and obedient in most other things. Her aunt 
once told her to go into a corner of the room — ' The child ' (that was 
her way of calling herself, in imitation of her grandmother who al- 
ways spoke of her in this mamier,) 'will go,' says she, ' if aunt W. 
will go and hold the candle.' After a series of experiments in or- 
der to influence the will, it at length gave way to necessity, and the 
little girl counted ten until her aunt ventured to restore her to her 
mother ; who was not again disappointed in a return of obstinacy 
on this point. But the same child, when learning to read would 
sometimes stop at a particular letter or word which her mother 
knew very well she understood. On these occasions she had only 
to say, ' E. have you forgotten to count ten V and the hesitation was 
at once overcome. Would not the character of this child have been 
essentially different had she obtained a victory over her mother at 
that time 1 [Ed.] 



220 HABITS OF CHILDREN. 

used at the same moment, it is easier to preserve calmness, 
and we may produce more of an impression. 
' Scolding and vociferation frighten children, more than 
they correct them ; and cause more tears than true repent- 
ance. It should he remembered that punishments (and 
severe reprimands are the same thing,) are designed only 
to ameliorate the dispositions of the heart ; every other 
motive would make us reprehensible ; every other result 
would declare us ignorant and Unskilful. In education, 
the duty of protecting happiness ought not to yield to any 
but that of preserving innocence, which is a condition 
necessary to happiness, and is of more value. 



( ^21 ) 



CHAPTER III. 



THIRD YEAR. ACTIVITY. 



" Activity is the truest pleasure of life, or, to speak more properly, 
life itself" — Will. Schlegel, 

If we doubted the innumerable benefits which the 
goodness of God has shed on our existence, it would be 
only necessary to look at little children. The simplest 
events cause them joy unspeakable. Even the necessary 
movements of life — the acts of seeing, of walking, and of 
speaking, are all sources of pleasure to them. The trans- 
ports of these poor little beings, teach us to know the 
worth, the intrinsic and primitive value of the thousand 
benefits which our abundance causes us to overlook. We 
do not speak correctly when we say that habit has ren- 
dered these enjoj'-ments nugatory. We no longer experi- 
ence their novelty ; but they still shed a certain charm upon 
our days. In them lies the secret of our attachment to 
life ; and when called to part with them, we feel this to 
be the case ; we are insensible to the happiness they give, 
because accustomed to it. 

After the age of two years, a remarkable development 

is ordinarily affected in children : there is more decision 

in their desires, more motive in their will ; every thing 

in their manner of existence is less vague, and more sig- 

19* 



222 THIRD YEAR. ACTIVITY. 

nificant ; and their movements more rational, and more 
graceful, have a more definite object. They form designs 
independent of ours ; and their less passive existence, be- 
comes more manifest in their conduct, as well as in their 
little conversations. These two different expressions of 
it will be successively the subject' of our examination. 

The pleasure of exerting their powers, is inexhaustible 
in children : it is sufficient for them to have the idea of 
an action in order to try it, and all that they see performed, 
they attempt to do. Thus they become interested in the 
exterior of every thing ; they imitate our movements, and 
our various operations, without troubling themselves about 
causes, or effects. Their mother puts a needle through 
her work, their father traces black lines upon a paper ; 
these are very natural amusements, in which the}'- take 
their part whenever they can. A pleasure is sufficient 
in itself — it does not need an object to induce them to 
pursue it. But we feel the necessity of one as we progress 
in life, inasmuch as the enjoyment attached to the sim.ple 
action becomes weakened. 

Observe a flock of children of different ages. One just 
beginning to walk, draws with pride a little empty car- 
riage, the noise of the wheels behind him is sufficient for 
his happiness ; another, a little larger, takes possession of 
the carriage, and must needs place a doll in it; one still 
greater, thinks the doll must play a part; at last, if the 
carriage falls into the hands of a child five or six years 
old, he will fill it with sand, grass, or straw ; he wishes to 
perform field-labors, which have" already some shadow of 
reality. The pure and simple desire of activity, then, that 
of the pleasures of imagination, and aflerwards that of real 
or supposed activity — these are the gradations of the 
moral necessities of childhood. 

To furnish continual food for the activity of children, 
without employing stimulants which are too forcible, is 
perhaps the epitome of education. It is the only means 



THIRD YEAR.' — ACTIVITY. 223 

of advancing intelligence — but at present, wisdom, or the 
formation of character occupies us exclusively. 

For this object the exercise of the moral faculties is ne- 
cessary: external movements, sensations, where the soul is 
passive, do not long suffice for children ; they may even 
experience fatigue from them : the diversions of this kind 
that we give them are often too prolonged, whilst mental 
activity finds its own limit, and stops before it becomes 
immoderate. We ought above all, then, to endeavor to 
bring this activity into exercise. Ill temper, moral disor- 
ganization, and frowardness in children, are almost always 
caused by weariness : the secret of rendering them good, 
is to occupy their minds. 

In poor families, where the mother has good sense and 
sweetness of temper, little children are perhaps more ra- 
tional and more forward, than in any others ; they also 
enjoy peculiar advantages. They become interested in 
all ihey see ; they understand and take a part in it. All 
the occupations of the household are in their sight, and 
they often participate in them. To wash, to spread out 
the linen, to pull and cook the vegetables ; this succession 
of varied labors which they witness, which they even aid 
in executing, gives exercise to the mind, and inspires 
them Avith the desire of being useful, at the same time that 
it amuses them. Occupied, without occupying others, 
their life is not taken up with self: and they have the 
feeling of a common interest, in which each one concurs 
according to his power. What can be better for a child? 

It is not thus in families where parents have another 
vocation. Our more elevated occupations, our children 
are absolutely strangers to ; and not leaving our minds 
at liberty, cause them a mortal weariness. If we suspend 
our labors from complaisance, they immediately see that 
we seek to divert them: sometimes, also, we wish to caress 
them, that they may love us ; and this intention, being too 



224 THIRD YEAR. ACTIVITY. 

evident, becomes more difficult to accomplish. The child 
is exacting, capricious, and difficult : the parents, who 
seek to please him, are not destitute of affectation in their 
efforts to place themselves upon a level with him : the in- 
tercourse is in every way unnatural ; they meet not upon 
the solid ground of services rendered, wishes satisfied, ac- 
tions reciprocated : every thing passes in demonstrations, 
in exhortations, in pleasantries — that is to say, in words, 
light things, addressed to beings already light. 

It is then to divers plays, or in other words to the pleas- 
ures of imagination, that we are obliged to have recourse, 
in order to render ourselves agreeable in our families. 
We hold these young minds under the empire of illusion, 
and to exercise their activity, we furnish children in a 
thousand diversions, with the means of imitating real life; 
it is assuredly a great resource, and one favorable to the 
progress of intelligence; but as far as it relates to charac- 
ter, truths which would interest them, are of more value. 

In this very important respect, we might turn to the 
greatest advantage, the love of action which children 
manifest. Feelings slowly developed, would easily re- 
ceive an impulse from^the allurement of a pleasure so sim- 
ple. Fraternal love, which is sometimes very tardy in 
displaying itself, will serve me for an example. A young 
child, who has for a long time been the sole object of the 
cares and indulgence of his mother, often looks upon the 
coming of a little rival with chagrin. Jealousy, that dis- 
position of the elder brother, will be awakened, if we do 
not guard against it. He is blamed, rebuked, and forced 
to yield his playthings to the little babe as soon as it has 
acquired a fancy for them. What is the consequence? 
that he loves it every day a little less — its appearance 
awakens in him only painful thoughts — he looks on it as 
the cause of his sorrows, and a tone of contention and 
envy becomes established between the children, which is 



THIRD YEAR. ACTIVITY. 225 

often strengthened during their intervals for play, and is 
sometimes but too much prolonged during life. You 
might have prevented this unhappiness by giving to the 
elder, as early as possible, an active part about the young- 
er. If he had apparently aided in getting him to sleep, 
in dressing him ; if, after having made him carefully sit 
down, the little one had been placed upon his knees, the 
most lively sympathy would have been called into action ; 
he would have believed himself the protector of his broth- 
er, and have conceived for him the tenderest affection. 

Miss Hamilton, in her estimable work, relates a very 
interesting fact. She saw in a part of the country bor- 
dering on Scotland, two poor children, the elder of which, 
at the age of three years, had been constantly left with the 
care jof his younger brother. He watched over him, 
dressed, fed him, never abandoning him a moment ; ful- 
filling all the duties of the most attentive mother. When 
the hour of repast approached, he took his charge into the 
Jiut, lighted a little fire, which he managed very skilfully, 
and prepared the siinple aliment which sustained them 
both. ' Take care, Daniel,' said somebody to him, as he 
gave food to his littte charge — 'take care not to burn 
your brother.' ' There is no danger,' replied he, ' I al- 
ways taste the first spoonful.' Very important results 
might be drawn from such a recital. This elder brother 
will not certainly be a selfish man ! * 

* Nothing is more true than that the more we do for one, the 
dearer that object becomes. A young girl of eleven years, who had 
long been the pet of the family, showed a desire to minister to her 
little step-brother, and the mother was pleased to have her do it, 
because she wished them to love each other. She would dress and 
undress the baby when three or four months old, and at ten months 
would persuade the nurse to let him sleep with her, getting up with 
alacrity in the night, to warm his milk, when he was thirsty. This 
devotion on her part, was returned by the lively affection of the in- 
fant, whose eyes never sparkled with more sincere delight than when 
his young sister stretched out her arms to take him. [Ed.J 



226 THIRD YEAR. ACTIVITY. 

We should do wrong, assuredly, if in thus seeking to 
develope the affections, we commenced by demanding 
sacrifices. We cannot obtain devotion, unless we permit 
the sentiment to grow, which produces it. This is, how- 
ever, the fault which we often commit. If a little beggar 
comes to the gate, we talk to the child about it in a touch- 
ing manner — Ave exhort him to benevolence — and the con- 
clusion is, that he ought to give the bread or the pear 
which he holds in his hand. This is a very bad method. 
Send him to seek such food, or clothing, or such things, 
in short, as will not fail to cause lively emotions of joy, in 
the little indigent boy, and your child will soon feel such 
a pleasure in giving, that in order to procure it he will 
even deprive himself of his own portion.* 

A sentiment, yet undecided, cannot successfully contend 
either with personal interest, or self-love : it would be im- 
prudent to bring it in competition with inclinations strong- 

* There are few children, we think, who are not fond of giving 
to the poor ; the books which twenty years ago were written for the 
young, were careful to treat of benevolence as the most noble of all 
the virtues — and indeed when rightly understood it cannot be too 
highly appreciated. But there is no generosity in a child's giving 
away the property of his parents ; nor should the indiscriminate re- 
lief of beggars be encouraged. We have known children of two 
years old behave insolently to their parents, when forbidden to give 
something valuable, to one whose claims to charity were of a dubi- 
ous kind. They had read so many stories of generous children, that 
they felt an ardor to distinguish themselves by some act, which 
would entitle them to rank among the little heroes and heroines of 
their imagination ; -^ they were indignant at any opposition to their 
noble purposes, and scarcely attempted to conceal their contempt 
for what they thought the unfeelingness of their parents' hearts. 
That generosity which involves self-denial, cannot be too much 
commended in children ; nor can we be too careful to teach them 
to discriminate between acts of charity and such as encourage idle- 
ness, and afford the means of indulgence to the intemperate and vi- 
cious. [Ed.] 



THIRD YEAR. ACTIVITY. 227 

er than itself; but strengthen it with exercise, let the re- 
membrance of happy efforts, of enterprizes crowned with 
success become associated with it, and the pleasure which 
has proceeded from activity, will be referred to the senti- 
ment. It will be fortified by the idea of the obstacles it 
has surmounted, and will become truly capable of van- 
quishing great ones> 

A partial analysis would undoubtedly discover self-love 
even here; but how shall we prevent an impure alloy 
from mingling with our best impulses ? When vanity 
and sensuality — in a word, when selfish motives occupy 
the fore-ground, they are the ones which become strong 
by exercise ; the pleasure which activity gives, turns to their 
profit ; but if they are in the shade ever so little, if motives 
truly good and generous mingle with them, though it be 
only in a small degree, the imagination will dwell on the 
more noble sentiments. It is to them the child will at- 
tribute the satisfaction he experiences. Hence, many of 
the rewards which are of a doubtful tendency, and the 
stimulants which address themselves to the bad passions 
of the human heart, produce not, in the application of them, 
all the evil which miofht be feared. Their influence be- 
comes balanced in the soul, and the salutary results of ac- 
tivity prevent in children the bad effects of the means em- 
ployed to excite them. But, is this fact a sufficient justi- 
fication for parents ? 

The idfea of turning to advantage the love of action in 
children — bringing them to an earlier acquaintance with 
real life, animated by its various interests — this idea, I 
say, will at some future day assuredly become the princi- 
pal pivot of education. We are already on the way to this 
result,* and when we shall apply ourselves especially to 

* I will quote, as an example of this new mode, Hazlewood Insti- 
tute in England, although I am far from adopting all the principles 
which it has set before teachers in a very intellectual work ' On 
Public Education.' [Ed.] 



228 THIRD YEAR.-^ACTIVITY. 

calling into action pure and disinterested feelings, we may 
hope for real progress in the art of educating future gen- 
erations. But, if teachers look more to the success of the ' 
moment, than to the design of the efforts by Avhich this 
success is to be obtained; if they are less occupied with 
the dispositions of the heart, than with outward acquire- 
ments, they will never be able to give a full development 
to all the faculties of the soul. When the moral qualities 
do not reach their true grandeur, the intellectual powers 
themselves will suffer from it. ' The beauty of the king's 
daughter is icithin " — says the Psalmist. 



( 229 ) 



CHAPTER IV. 



PROGRESS OF THE THIRD YEAR. TRUTH. 

" We conjure you to sacrifice every thing to truth." — Saurin. 

The progress of the child as manifested in the acquire- 
ment of language, is more interesting perhaps than in any- 
thing else. All is novel, characteristic, and is closely- 
connected with moral feeling. From the cradle, the in- 
fant has more or less distinctly desired, loved, and exer- 
cised his faculties and powers. His development in these 
various respects, has operated by gradations so insensible, 
that we have with difficulty followed the course of them, 
and have supposed it to be nearly the same in every indi- 
vidual : but from the moment the child speaks, the subject 
brightens : his impressions, his thoughts, have each their 
distinguishing seal — we remember, we repeat his words. 
It seems as if day had dawned upon his character and 
mind, and that we shall henceforth know the beings we 
have to deal with. 

It would certainly be very essential to know this, but 
some study is necessary in order to do it. Open ancl in- 
genuous as children are, they are not always exactly sin- 
ceTe ; and we find in them a singular mixture of artifice 
and simplicity. Sympathy, that instinct which is so re- 
markably developed in them, tends rather to deceive them 
20 



230 PROGRESS OF THE THIRD YEAR. TRUTH. 

in the use of language. While they are yet very young, 
they believe it is made either to please others, or to obtain 
their own desires, and not to declare truth, — a thing of 
which they have very little idea. Why should a child 
endeavor to make his expressions correspond with facts ? 
of what consequence is the past to him, the little history 
of his daily life ? he hardly preserves the remembrance of 
it. That which interests him is to be caressed ; to have 
us give him what he wants. In vain will you interrogate 
him on what he has done, he will only give such answer 
as he thinks will be agreeable. ' I have done what will 
please you,' would be at the age of two years, the most 
natural response. 

It is said to be the same with savages. • A traveller 
finds it very difficult to obtain from them the simplest di- 
rections ; he cannot learn what route to follow, so much 
are they occupied in discovering his interest, or rather 
their own, in this occurrence ; and all to w^homj he ad- 
dresses himself, will give different replies. A sort of de- 
ceit seems innate in children. They learn to avoid false- 
hood in words, but they still practise it in action ; for ac- 
tions themselves are but falsehoods, when their object is to 
manifest what is not true. Hence proceeds complicated 
deceit, since it is a deceitful language which expresses a 
false thing. The poor children however do not make 
very profound combinations; but they have, almost at birth, 
inclinations to hypocrisy, at once prompt and subtle. 

A child of eighteen months carefully conceals a little 
basket which has been for a long time the object of his 
covetousness ; then he places himself near his mother 
very softly ; he wishes to be quiet, but too much agitated 
to succeed in this, he fondles, he caresses her. His 
blushes, his manner at the same time tender and embar- 
rassed, the excess even of his demonstrations are sufficient 
to betray him. Whence comes this augmentation of 



PROGRESS OF THE THIRD YEAR. TRUTH. 231 

affection, for there is some sincerity in its manifestations ? 
Does he feel more the value of the union, as he fears its 
approaching rupture ? Has he some compassion for his 
mother, because he thinks he has deprived her of a valued 
possession? Does he give vent to his emotion by embrac- 
es 1 What a profound mystery the heart is, even in the 
tenderest infancy ! 

Another child borrows an attractive fan from a stran- 
ger; then in the hope that she will forget to take it back 
^gain, he successively carries her flowers, his old play- 
things, or any article that he can lay his hand on, 
offering them to her with the eagerness of the most mark- 
ed politeness. Another asks for sugar-plums,* or the en- 
joyment of a similar pleasure, for his Utile brother. Al- 
most all avoid caressing their nurse in the presence of 
their mother, so well do they understand the key to the 
maternal heart. 

There is undoubtedly nothing more attractive, than the 
graceful developments, the comic and piquant scenes, that 
these little artifices give rise to. The stratagems of young 
girls especially, have so much prettiness, the caresses 
which accompany them are so beguiling, that one cannot 
look upon them with severity : we laugh at these strata- 
gems ; we relate them before their authors. This is a 
greater error than we imagine.! Such means ought to 



* The custom of visitors giving children presents has the eifect to 
render them selfish. No wise parent \vdll encourage this practice. 
We love to see the disinterested delight with which our children 
welcome our friends ; but when we know that their pleasure arises 
from the expectation of sugar-plums or toys, we feel mortified. And 
yet if they have reason to expect gifts on such occasions, how natu- 
ral that they should thiiik more of these than of the givers. [Ed.] 

t More than one evil arises from relating before children their 
clever sayings and doings; besides the bad effect, which the author 



232 PROGRESS OF THE THIRD YEAR. TRUTH. 

be known for what they are, those of artifice ; and with 
woman particularly, perfect rectitude is the best safeguard 
on which she can rely. The obligation to sincerity is 
most imperative upon her. Living in a state of depen- 
dence in which she owes ah account of her conduct to him 
who is her guide and protector, how shall he direct her^ 
how shall he confide in her, if her accounts are'not faith- 
nil? In aiming a blow at truth, she escapes from her 
obedience, and the beauty of the conjugal relation is de- 
stroyed. 

But of what impoxtance is not truth to the human char- 
acter 1 The influence of this principle upon all the moral 
qualities is so great, that it seems useless to single any. 
The connection of vice and falsehood is inevitable. We 
learn at first to dissemble because we do evil, we continue 
to do evil because we have learned to dissemble. These 
observations cannot be disputed ; they are'received maxims ; 
every one knows that sincerity is a virtue securing all 
others ; but it is not sufficiently felt in education, that the 
possession of this virtue is of pressing, immediate and 
personal interest to every pupil. We are not aware of the 
dignity which the most trifling thought acquires from the 
fact of its veracity. This demands some explanation. 

Invisible and immaterial in its essence, the soul can 
only manifest itself by actions and language. Striking 



has mentioned, of laughing at their little artifices, and repeating 
them, it renders them vain and affected, to be too much noticed. 
A fond mother was relating to her company some of the remarka- 
ble speeches of her little daughter three years old ; the child who 
stood by listening with great satisfaction, at length pulled hermoth- 
er by the sleeve, and said, ' now tell them what I said about Mrs. 
A.' Will this child or the mother be accomitable for the weak- 
ness which maturer years will but more strikingly exhibit in her 
character 1 [Ed.] 



PROGRESS OF THE THIRD YEAR, TRUTH. 233 

and resolute actions, are sufficient to declare mental ex- 
cellence to all eyes ; but these are rare in life. The 
greater part of human kind, under the restraints of ne- 
cessity and habits, pass their days without disclosing the 
inner recesses of the heart by external acts. 

It is nevertheless very important for us to know each 
other. Events are so uncertain ; social relations become 
combined and multiplied in such a variety of ways, that 
none can tell if the feeblest ties will not suddenly be 
strengthened ; and if an individual now indifferent, may 
not hereafter influence our destiny. There is a moral 
character to be unfolded in nations, governments and fam- 
ilies ; wherefore in all its relations, more or less general, 
this question occupies the world at large ; and gives exer- 
cise to all minds from the idlest gossip, to the most en- 
lightened politician. 

Our projects for the future, although founded upon con- 
jecture, nevertheless rest upon some data. We fancy that 
we know what would be on certain occasions, the conduct 
of certain persons ; and we owe this knowledge, whether 
more or less correct, to the study of his character. If such 
a study was impossible, if one possessed a nature so re- 
served and intricate that we could not penetrate it, his ex- 
istence would be as nothing to us. Never being able to 
depend upon him, we should leave him silently, and seek 
truth elsewhere. This is the case when we meet with the 
false, and affected: and with all those who have cut the 
link of communication between their soul and ours. 
They are insignificant in all their doings. If they amuse 
or instruct us, it is like books ; if they serve us it is like 
machines. But in themselves they are nobody ; to us, 
they do not possess reality. In destroying their natural 
character, they have in a manner committed moral suicide, 
and their existence remains unnoticed. We see them dis- 
20* 



234 PFOGRESS OF THE THIRD YEAR. TRUTH. 

puting about nothing, throwing out gestures and strong 
expressions — no one heeds them; we smile, and pass on. 

Words, this means of communication so charming, and 
so easy, words have not in themselves any fixed value : 
they acquire what they possess, from the individual who 
uses them ; and we discover it by indications very deli- 
cate, but which taken together, rarely deceive. This val- 
ue may be very great. A word, pronounced by a certain 
man, answers for his conduct forever ; it is as a part of him- 
self; he will maintain it, cost what it will. His slightest 
expression bears the imprint of his great soul, and pro- 
duces a profound impression. On the contrar}^ the 
strongest protestations from certain other men pass for 
nothing; they are useless notes, the signature of which is 
disregarded. 

In obliging your child to adhere to truth then, you in- 
sure his moral existence, which is of more consequence 
to him than that which is merely physical, since life must 
be but wretched to those who abandoning veracity are 
constantly exposed to the most humiliating trials. No 
one speaks of those secret troubles which are the bitter 
fruits of the want of truth in the character ; all are silent 
on the grief of never being believed, never depended on, 
never placed in an honorable station of trust. It is a situ- 
ation too, which it is always necessary to conceal, to mask 
under vain words, which only serve to prove it. 

When we see whole nations sink under the weight of 
ills, connected with the depreciation of language; when 
we see that in their misfortunes they scarcely excite pity ; 
that beings distinguished by the most brilliant gifts, and 
best calculated to move the imagination, in the impossi- 
bility of producing an impression, falling into discourage- 
ment, or obliged to have recourse to ridiculous exaggera- 
tion — a sympton as well as a disastrous effect of the evils 
which afflict their nation ; when, on the contrary, we see 



PROGRESS OF THE THIRD YEAR. TRUTH. 235 

that honest and measured words command respect m oth- 
er nations, it should be our greatest care to elevate these 
representative signs of thought, both in public and private 
education.* 

What, in relation to this very important thing, will be 
the effect of the changes which are continually taking 
place in the manners of the age? Under the ancient or- 
der of society, the obligation to expose life, rather than suf- 
fer one's good faith to be called in question, confined, it is 
true, falsehood within certain limits. But if the barbarous, 
practice of duelling raised the value of words on the one 
hand, it diminished it on the other, in elevating personal 
courage above every thing, and substituting bravery for 
conscience. 

The most important influence in every age is exerted 
by moral and religious sentiment ; but there are indica- 
tions- that the new state of things will give a greater and 
more. constant desire for truth. The noble and universal 
interests which are confided to the choice spirits of a na- 
tion, call for all that is honest and sincere : pretexts and 
subterfuges, condemned to the disgrace of being unveiled, 
will dare no longer to display themselves. Even in a^less 
elevated sphere, the spirit of association and of enterprise, 
by multiplying transactions, will augment the desire to be 
promptly understood. Men of finesse waste too much 
time, and when we would not distrust their probity we 
would still avoid business with theni, because we never 
know what they will do. Likewise in education; skillful 



* Stranger.s, it is true, often judge very unjustly of the inhabitants, 
of a country, where these habits of exaggeration reign. They 
ought to think that words stripped of their value, are estimated and 
given for what they are worth, and that no one is deceived by them. 
But what excuse can we make for such> language, except to say,. 
that it has no meaning ! [Ed.] 



236 PROGRESS OF THE THIRD YEAR. TRUTH. 

teachers* have found that active and serious duties among 
children, charged with important functions, render them 
tenacious of sincerity, and cause them to possess a sove- 
reign contempt not only for lying, but for every shade of 
deceit. 

If parents shut their eyes upon the consequences of 
want of truth to their children, yet how can they mistake 
their own interests as teachers ? Are they ignorant that 
tliey labor in the dark, so long as the child is insincere ? 
The most cruel uncertainty is shed upon all their care — 
the time and money that they believed well invested, is 
perhaps employed in a fatal manner, and perhaps is re- 
motely preparing some of those disastrous discoveries 
which give true anguish to the parental heart. 

A sense of truth is to be cultivated, and we cannot too 
early accelerate its development. To this effect we should 
endeavor to make the young child comprehend that his 
words ought to agree with facts, rather than with his de- 
sires, or those of others — a thing that of himself he will 
not always understand. In relating all the circumstances 
of events in which he has either been an actor, or a wit- 
ness, he knows when the recital is a faithful one. He 
soon knows it so well, that if you commit the least error, 
he will correct you with a sort of pedantry. It is neces- 
sary to thank him in such a case, and make him see the 
full value Avhich Ave attach to accuracy. 

But^ve should not only be particular about language,; 
stratagems should also be discovered. We ought to com- 
prehend, and overthrow them, and show that we are never 
duped by them. It is not necessary to have an explana- 
tion : what cannot be proved, should not be reprimanded. 
If you receive artful and designing caresses Avith the most 



* Those of the school at HazleA\'ood, 



TROGRESS OF THE THIRD YEAR. TRUTH. 237 

perfect coldness, and those which proceed from^the heart 
with reciprocated tenderness, the child informed by his 
conscience, will not mistake your motives. Pretences 
will be treated in like manner, and without giving them 
the name they merit, you will always have a reason for 
refusing them. Exaggerations, boastings, doubtful stories 
will only obtain from you a grave silence. Nothing 
will give yoLi so high a place in the mind of the child, 
nothing will better secure his respect for your knowledge, 
than the proof that he will thus have of your penetration. 

Another object sweeter and no less important, is to se- 
cure the confidence of the child. Endeavor to obtain from 
him a confession of his little faults, and always reward his 
candor by the fullest pardon. Remember that before the 
age of reason, the evil of indulgence cannot equal that of 
exposing veracity to the least danger. We ought partic- 
ularly to avoid placing children in the way of temptation. 
"We should never interrogate them with regard to their 
past honesty — never on facts Avhich they would deny, or 
sentiments which they would conceal — never likewise on 
the conduct of other children, or that of domestics. Why 
expose them to betray others ? Why place their frail vir- 
tue between denunciation, and a lie ? 

All experiment is dangerous to sincerity, a quality 
which gathers strength in quietude. We are so often 
obliged to speak the truth on ordinary occasions ; the 
proportion of falsehood is necessarily so feeble, even in 
deceitful men, that the habit of veracity is likely to become 
formed, if interruptions to it are avoided.* Such a habit 



* Has not the author reversed the true order of things 1 Does 
not nature prompt children to speak truth, and example give them 
the habit of deception'? A yoimg child seeing a cat, is not prompt- 
ed by nature to say, ' There is a dog ;' if there is such a thing as 
instinct in children, it seems to be to act as they feel, and to speak a.s 



238 PROGRESS OF THE THIRD YEAR. TRUTH. 

ought not to be too much tried, certamly ; but should we 
dare neglect what Avould favor the development of con- 
science 1 It ought to be remembered that I speak here of 
infancy. At a later period it may be useful, by pertinent 
interrogations, to probe secret motives ; to strengthen the 
morality of the child by subjecting it to some proofs : but 
such attempts appear to me calculated only to weaken 
what has not yet taken root. 

If we have succeeded in making truth respected but a 
short time, we have come in possession of a powerful 
means — we are able to manifest confidence. Our esteem, 
which is in proportion to. the correctness of the child's as- 
sertions, renders him attentive to his words. And when 
we no longer doubt what he affirms, when his simplest 
testimony instantly produces in us full conviction ; the 
sentiment of joy and of dignity which fills his soul, shows 
him the value of good faith. 

But the most essential thing, is to be perfectly correct 
ourselves. All other interests ouo-ht to be sacrificed to 
that of truth. To deceive a child is not only to set him 
a pernicious example, but it is to destroy our influence 
over him for the future ; it is to renounce the entire educa- 
tion, of which we are no longer able to be the instrument. 
Why do we not feel that our power with the minds of 
children is only based upon the profound and constant 
persuasion that we are incapable of abusing them ? And 
let us not think that their credulity will be of long dura- 



they think. When the mother, gives her child a bitter medicine, 
and tells him it is good ; when she says she is not going away, and 
slily escapes, the child learns from example to deceive ; and self-in- 
terest soon prompts him to put this knowledge in practice. We 
are sorry to differ in opinion from, so enlightened an author as 
Madame de Saussure, but are not willing to attribute to nature 
what we think is a fault in education. [Ed ] 



PROGRESS OF THE THIRD YEAR. TRUTH. 239 

tion ; perhaps it would be if they had not cause to doubt 
us. But we do not even take the trouble to conceal our 
bad faith, and the acts of falsehood which we oftenest in- 
dulge, in our intercourse with them,, together with the 
vain promises which we make, always conclude by being 
recognized for what they are, and ^make an impression 
upon their minds. 

Every thing may be repaired with children, excepting 
falsehood : be impatient, angry, for a moment unjust ; this 
will be very wrong, but perhaps they will forget it. They 
are faults to which the will is not accessory, and inefface- 
able remembrance only attaches itself to intentional sins. 
You have, I know, a secret motive which excuses you ; 
but this motive unintelligible to the child, does not 
justify you in his eyes. It is important to him to know 
if he can believe you, the whole future, of which he has 
any idea, is included in this question. If he has always 
found you literally true, your moral power is yet entire, 
while on the contrary if he has once proved you false, 
you are no longer any thing but a material and un- 
certain instrument, the employment of which not being 
foreknown, will never be taken into consideration. 

The idea of duty is either formed in the child, or it is 
not. If it is not, you are able to influence him only by 
hope or fear. Children who have never been deceived, 
look upon promises, as facts, and a thread is sufficieet to 
conduct them. If they have been deceived, chains would 
not do it. 

Hence we see the reason why education is difficult 
among the ignorant. They love their children as much 
as we do ours, but they believe it is admissible to deceive 
them, for their good. Unaccustomed to govern them by 
words, they have recourse to chastisement ; and notwith- 
standing the most frightful increase of severity, this soon 
loses its effect. An obstinacy, which nothing can over- 
come, produces irritability in the parents, who know not 



240 PROGRESS OF THE THIRD YEAR. TRUTH. 

how to control their own passions, and a course of treat- 
ment follows too dreadful for description. The little un- 
fortunate being, seeing himself delivered to a blind and 
unpitying chance, refuses to care for the future. His 
pleasures are taken by stealth, and wrapping himself in a 
state of stupid indifference, as to the consequences of his 
actions, he remains a stranger to morality, as well as to 
simple human prudence. 

But if the child had already been impressed with the 
sentiment of duty, what revolution, what disorder takes 
place in his existence ! His father has deceived him — 
his own father ! sad and overwhelming conviction! Even 
supposing that he dare not condemn the act, supposing 
that we succeed in persuading him that the dissimulation 
was lawful, or necessary, yet what confusion does it pro- 
duce in his mind ! All which is clear to him is, that he 
can no longer believe any thing. Motives above his 
reach, justify all conduct of which he is the object; he is 
a poor miserable being to whom no one owes that truth 
* and justice which ought to exist among all men. Great 
mental dejection is the consequence of such a persuasion, 
and we may be certain that morality in his dealings with 
others, will commence only when he shall clearly see it 
in the conduct of others towards himself 

We cannot make the idea of duty in the child too sim- 
ple: we cannot too early elevate the dignity of his young 
spirit, by showing him that he is depended upon, and 
that we would not unnecessarily^ wound his self-respect. 
There is danger undoubtedly of exciting self-love too 
strongly in education ; there is the same disadvantage, as 
I think, in exahing too much the idea of moral povv^er : 
but the esteem, shall I say the respect 1 which men, not- 
withstanding their imperfections may merit ; this esteem 
the natural inheritance of whoever has not forfeited it, 
should be accorded in full to the child. He is ignorant 



PROGRESS OF THE THIRD YEAR. TRUTH. 241 

and feeble ; the laws, as well as necessity deliver him into 
our power ; but he is not the less our equal, our brother, 
perhaps he is our superior ; nearer than we to the great 
Sourceof being, more recently from the hands of the Cre- 
ator, his nature is more angelic. Innocent in his feelings, 
a stranger to suspicion as well as fear — joy, security, and 
noble confidence will beam in his eyes, until sad experi- 
ence shall have changed the purity of his nature. 

The most scrupulous regard to truth in teachers, fails 
not to produce it in pupils also, and docility in the latter 
follows of course. A sincere education can alone be, in 
the main, a mild one ; for, since there are points that we 
wish to obtain decidedly, it is necessary to have recourse 
to violence, if words fail of effect. This, an enlightened 
mother will soon feel, and will, if possible, impart to her 
auxiliaries. She ought especially to direct her nurses in 
this particular ; but here is a great difficulty, perfect sin- 
cerity being the rarest quality among the poor, in conse- 
quence of a defective education joined to a state of depen- 
dence. As the means of removing this difficulty should 
be taken into consideration, I will conclude by expressing 
the wish, that in this age, so fruitful in institutions, w^e 
should employ ourselves in founding schools for nurses, 
capable of governing children under six years old. Some 
establishments, where we might depend upon finding dis- 
creet, amiable, and upright persons, w^ould be a benefit of 
which mothers only could appreciate the value. 

21 



( 242 ) 



CHAPTER V. 



OF THE IMAGINATION AT THREE YEARS, 

" The faculty in man most vivid, most simple, and most insepa- 
rable from himself, is imagination." — Anonymous German writer. 

In early spring the flower of the young elm has already 
passed away ; it has given to the wind its light seed, hut 
the leaves are yet scarcely unfolded. Such is the imagi- 
nation of childhood. Precocious in its development, and 
powerful in its effects, although very simple in its forms ; 
it embellishes, animates, and sometimes disturbs the early 
period of life : we see it surpass all the other faculties in 
grandeur, and then become gradually reduced to the ordi- 
nary proportions, in which it is presented by the men of 
our climate. 

Two kinds of intellectual progress may be distinguish- 
ed among children ; mental development, and the acqui- 
sition of knowledge. These reciprocally aid each other. 
The ever-growing faculties accumulate a fund of facts, 
which, in their turn, furnish matter for the exercise of 
the faculties ; the spirit of examination is strengthened by 
multiplying research ; memory shows itself to be faithful 
in proportion as it connects ideas ; and the judgment be- 
comes more sound when it compares a multitude of ob- 



OF THE IMAGINATION AT THREE YEARS. 243 

jects : but it is not thus with imagination, which increases 
and declines with astonishing rapidity. 

If we understand by imagination the mental represen- 
tation of outward objects, this faculty undoubtedly reigns 
paramount in the earliest period of life, and together with 
sympathy forms the entire moral existence of the new- 
born child. But at that time it is so much obscured by 
the clouds of infancy, that it is with difficulty manifested 
externally, and has not yet attained that brilliancy and 
' vigor which a greater manifestation of strength afterwards 
gives it. It is at the age of three or four years, perhaps, 
that the features of the infantine imagination are the most 
striking. Much has been already acquired, and the ef- 
fects of simple nature it is not easy to discover ; but this 
is the only age in which we observe certain phenomena 
that can belong only to the imagination. 

The child is not yet enlightened by experience : his 
memory has only collected scattered facts, of which he 
knows not the general laws ; and he has yet no clear idea 
of the established order of the universe. 

Give to a child some sugar-plums in a box, and he will 
be constantly opening the box, to see if the sugar-plums 
are still there. Conceal yourself behind a curtain, and 
the transports of his joy at seeing you again, will prove 
that it was sad, but not very surprising to him, that you 
had disappeared. The vivacity of his pleasure on many 
occasions, is the consequence of being suddenly delivered 
from certain fears, which were not a source of doubt to 
us. A sort of obscure personification of inanimate objects, 
may often add to the strength of his impressions. Not 
only do dolls become to him living beings, although in 
reality he knows what they are, but his other play-things, 
his furniture, the utensils of which he makes use, seem to 
him not entirely deprived of life; and in the tears which 
lie sheds at their loss there is something much more 



244 OF THE IMAGINATION AT THREE YEARS. 

tender, than the regret caused by their utility. A genuine 
pity is combined with them. • This poor cup,' says he, 
his heart swelling at the wreck of what he has broken — 
' I loved it so much.' 

The child furthermore believes there is life in every 
thing that moves. Wind, thunder, flame, wills to over- 
throw, to roar, and to consume. After three years old, 
his mind often desires to recur from the idea to the cause. 
If he has witnessed the construction of something, he asks 
who formed the mountains, who dug the lake ; but from 
the moment he perceives motion, he seeks for the cause 
no longer ; the river flows, the smoke ascends, without 
his asking for the reason ; a balloon, a flying-kite does 
not astonish him. Motion is explained to him by life : as 
he judges of every thing by sympathy, w^hat he can least 
conceive of, is the absence of sensation. 

His total ignorance of the laws of nature, the facility 
with which he attributes reality to the most singular con- 
ceptions, are the causes of the prodigious interest which 
he takes in his amusements. The idea of a multitude of 
possible chances keeps him in continual excitement ; 
hence arises his inconstancy. When his attempts have 
been deceived, and the various combinations lead to noth- 
ing new, he becomes weary, his imagination languishes, 
and the beings that it had animated return to lifeless mat- 
ter. 

These ideas are not so foreign to us as may be imag- 
ined ; there is in us a confused reverberation of the same 
kind of impressions, which are yet very perceptible in 
youth. The taste for material thmgs also, and the power 
of being amused by them, are always diminishing with 
age ; at least, this is the fact when they flatter neither av- 
arice or vanity, .,those inclinations of the mature man, 
which succeed to curiosity, and the imagination of in- 
fancy. 



OF THE IMAGINATION AT THREE YEARS. 245 

The pleasure procured to children by a narration of the 
simplest history, is because of the liveliness of the pic- 
tures in their mind. The images which we conjure up 
within them, are perhaps more brilliant and highly 
wrought than real objects would be; a recital brings be- 
fore them the magic lantern. There is then no need of 
putting your invention to the rack in order to divert 
them. Take a child for the principal personage ; join to 
it a cat, a horse, any combination, in short, that makes an 
image; relate your story with animation, and your audi- 
tor will eagerly listen ; the interest you excite will amount 
to a passion. Every time he meets you, he will make 
you repeat your narrative. But beware of changing any 
thing. He wishes to see the same scene again, and the 
least circumstance omitted or added, dissipates the illusion 
which pleased him.* 

We are often astonished to see that very coarse imita- 
tions fully satisfy children: we sneer at their want of 
taste in works of art, while we should rather admire that 
power of imagination, which renders the illusion possible 
Mould as you will a figure of wax, or cut one out of pa- 
per, and provided it has some appearance of arms and 
legs, and a ball put on for a head, to surmount the whole, 
your work will be a man in the eyes of the child. It will 
remain such for whole weeks: the loss of one or two 
members will make no difference, and in the imagination 



* We easily comprehend that omissions may be disagreeable, but 
why also are additions often so ? Some further details ought not 
to make him doubt the reality of the facts which we relate. It is 
because these facts have already passed in review before his mind, 
but accompanied by combinations different from those we have de- 
scribed to him the second time. It was represented with other lo- 
calities, other persons, other clothes. We have deranged his former 
imagery, and he regrets it. [Ed.] 
21* 



m 



246 OF THE IMAGINATION AT THREE YEAR^. 

of the child it will play any part that we would wish ia 
make it. It is not the bad copy, which the child sees, it is 
the model he has in his head. The figure of wax is but 
a symbol, which cannot arrest his mind. Let such a 
symbol be however badly chosen, insignificant, unimpor- 
tant, and the young soul pierces the veil, arrives at the 
truth, and contemplates it under its true colors. 

This faculty, which permits them to suppose one object 
in the place of another, is manifested in children, at a very 
early age. I have seen a child of eleven months old, re- 
cognize a very small dog on an engraving. All children 
are amused with prints after the first year, although nei- 
ther the form, or size, or the true color of objects are rep- 
resented upon this flat surface, and by this multitude of 
black lines. A little girl of eighteen months old, care- 
fully tends her doll : she puts it to bed, feeds it, keeps it 
from cold, takes it up, reproaches it, and testifies in a 
manner sometimes rather harsh, the interest that she takes 
in its morality, at the same time being conscious that it is 
but play. These are the true dramatic pleasures, those 
Avhich spring from voluntary illusion, from an illusion 
which takes forcible possession of the mind, Avithout how- 
ever leading it into error. 

Animals are absolute strangers to this class of ideas. 
An imitation may deceive them, but when once their mis- 
take is recognized, they take no interest in it. Zeuxis, it 
is said, had painted some grapes so naturally, that the 
birds came to banquet on them; but the moment they 
touched the canvass, they flew far away from it. 

The more the imagination of the child is brought into 
play, the more he has of pleasure. He loves to fancy 
other things than those he sees, and enjoys the illusion. 
He is most amused by playthings of his own invention. 
Faithful copies of real things, therefore, sufler the fate of 
the things themselves, which soon weary him. He ad- 



<3!^-» 



OF THE IMAGINATION AT THREE YEARS'. 247 

mires them, he is enchanted by them, but the too precise 
form of the object restrains his imagination ; it represents 
but one model, and how can he content himself with one 
amusement ? A little soldier well ecpiipped, is but a sol- 
dier; he is never the father of the child, or any other per- 
sonage. It would appear that the young mind is inspired 
with the sense of originality : he puts every thing in con- 
tribution to realize his hopes, and sees in every thing 
about him, instruments of his pleasure. An ottoman in- 
yerted, is a boat or carriage ; placed upright, it is a horse, 
or a table : a piece of pasteboard is a house, a cabinet, a 
chariot — in short, every thing that he wants. It is ne- 
cessary to enter into his views, and ever before the age of 
useful plays, to give the child means to work with, rather 
than works already completed. Thus some thick boards 
in the form of books, and susceptible of being placed upon 
each other in different ways are excellent materials for 
building, which will prevent him from seeking others ; 
and if the boards are perforated, if he can connect them 
together in different ways by means of strings, he gives 
himself up to his genius. When yet very young, we 
may render him perfectly happy by giving him some sand 
to play with ; things which by turns are to him water, 
land, a dinner to prepare, &c. Whatever can lend its aid 
to the fancy of the moment, is a source of inexhaustible 
pleasure to him. 

The entire existence of these little children is dramatic ; 
their life is a pleasing dream, prolonged and supported 
by design. Incessantly inventing, adorning and acting 
scenes, their days pass away in fiction, and but for their 
puerility they would be poets. In truth, all that poets 
have sung, all that mythology has consecrated, all that 
superstition has fancied of the life which is spread through- 
out nature's works is found in lively traits, sometimes 
burlesqued indeed, in early childhood. Some examples 



248 OF THE IMAGINATION AT THREE YEARS. 

will suffice to prove the power of imagination at this pe- 
riod. 

I know a child of two years and a half old, who passes 
a part of his time in playing- the part of coachman. His 
horses are two chairs, for which he makes a harness of 
ribbons. Seated behind on a third, with the reins in one 
hand, and a little whip in the other, he drives his peace- 
able coursers. A light balancing of his body shows that 
he believes himself in motion. By degrees this move- 
ment slackens, he falls into a repose approaching sleep, 
the illusion still continuing. But if some one places him- 
self before the chairs, the immobility of the object, by un- 
deceiving him, destroys his pleasure. Then he is trou- 
bled, he is grieved. Somebody prevents his horses from 
going forward. 

The same child is occupied regularly in feeding, with 
imaginary grain, domestic fowls, Avhich are also imagina- 
ry. He requires the door of the chamber where he keeps 
them, to be left open, and if it is shut by accident, he im- 
mediately falls to weeping. We keep his poor ducks and 
chickens from coming out* 

A father listening at the window, hears his children 
drawing the bow in the garden. One is a judge of the 
shot, the others call for his decision. One disputes, one 
cries, one applauds the victor, one insults the vanquished. 
The father feels some inquietude. Where did they get 
the bow and arrow? Can they shoot it, at their age? 
Will they not do some mischief? Being unable to forbear 
longer, he descends into the garden, and observes them. 



* A httle girl of three years returning from church, said to her 
father, ' Our hens keep meeting too ; the cock rings the bell, the 
black hen preaches, and the chickens sing.' The father was pleas- 
ed with the fancy which could thus make use of the most remote 
analogies, to furnish its imagery. [Ed.] 



OF THE IMAGINATION AT THREE YEARS, 249 

He sees them glowing, animated, and full of that genuine 
ardor which accompanies great pleasure. The whole 
pantomime was perfect ; but they had neither bow, ar- 
row, or mark ; a wall formed all the material of the exer- 
cise. 

A deep and sincere feeling is often joined to the illu- 
sions of childhood, and the affection of little girls for their 
dolls has occasionally something touching in it. At the 
age of four years, when illusion ordinarily begins to dis- 
sipate, a child lets fall her cherished doll, and unfortunate- 
ly breaks its nose. Frightful cries, and terrible despair 
ensue ; which are redoubled by the imprudence of the 
father, who, not regarding the accident with sufficient seri- 
ousness, half laughing, half seeking to repair the deformed 
visage, crushes the remainder of the broken nose, into an 
enormous cavity. Grief, mingled with anger, then renders 
the child so violent, that there is reasons to fear convul- 
sions. We quiet her as we can ; we take away the doll, 
promising to cure it, and at length succeed in getting the 
little girl to sleep, overcome with weariness. During her 
slumber we run to the men of handicraft. A fine new 
face is very skilfully substituted for the old one, and we 
expect when she awakes the child will be quite satisfied. 
Not at all ; her grief, as lively as ever, has assumed a 
character of tenderness and bereavement. It is no longer 
a little fury, it is a true mother to whom we have dared to 
present another child in the place of her own. Sobs in- 
terrupt her words as she cries — ' Ah, it is no longer, no 
longer my doll — I knew it before, and I now know it no 
longer — do you believe I can ever love this other ? Take 
it away ; I do not wish to see it.' 

Those who have the care of sick children in the hospi^ 
tal, often find them more gentle and patient than adults. 
A little girl, who was obliged to have her leg amputated, 
had submitted to the whole operation without uttering a 



250 OF THE IMAGINATION AT THREE YEARS. 

complaint, clasping her doll, in the mean time, closely in 
her arms. ' I am going soon to cut off your doll's leg,' 
said the surgeon, laughingly, when he had finished the 
operation : the poor child, who had suffered so much 
without complaint, at this cruel proposal melted into tears 

Having reached a certain point, the illusion in the 
child ceases to be voluntary; he no longer yields to it 
and from that moment a sensation of fear takes possession 
of him. Beginning to doubt whether it be illusion, he 
believes himself on the borders of an unknown world, full 
of frightful realities. Make a large doll dance before a 
child of two years old, and his pleasure will be propor- 
tioned to the gentleness of its motions; if you jump it 
high, and its arms move with violence, the child will per- 
haps laugh heartily, but he will press closely to its mother, 
and his flushed or pallid face will betray mental agitation. 
Those who possess a ralent for grimace, amuse themselves 
with the great effect which it produces on children ; but 
it is easy to see that the pleasure of the latter is only pure, 
when they recognize at intervals the natural physiognomy 
of the actor : if he continue his grimaces without interrup- 
tion, and especially if he allows one to remain fixed upon 
his countenance, the child is afraid. The idea of a meta- 
morphosis, of a frightful combination of two beings into 
one, takes possession of him ; he hardly knows what it is 
he fears — but he trembles. 

The effect of entire ignorance is one of the things we 
are most liable to forget. What we have already seen 
appears natural to us, and we do not feel that to the child, 
who has seen nothing, every thing is equally natural. 
The region of the possible is unlimited to him. Dark- 
ness may conceal monsters and precipices, artificial fig- 
ures may become animate, fall upon him and devour him, 
phantoms may come out of the earth, and the chimney is 
a cavern where fantastic beings make their abode. As 
soon as an idea is presented to children their imagination 



OF THE IMAGINATION AT THREE YEARS. 251 

gives it a living, real form, and a vague sensation of fear 
calls up spectres to their mind. 

Such liveliness in the faculty of imagination, joined to 
great excitability and to weakness of nerves, in these poor 
little creatures, renders it truly criminal to abuse their 
credulity. We may make them foolish, imbecile, subject 
to terrors, that will cause unhappiness throi5gh their 
whole lives. But even where this should not be the case, 
the influence of fear upon the moral character is im- 
mense. It renders it weak, hypocritical, sometimes per- 
fidious ; and moreover it exposes the child to run into de- 
struction, in the least real danger. Why must we needs 
repeat it again? Rousseau, Miss Hamilton, M. Friedlan- 
der, each in their w^ay, have exhausted the powers of elo- 
quence, of reason, and even of science. Shall w^e never 
be able to accomplish any thing upon this inexhaustible 
subject of education, which will be treated of to the end of 
the world, but be obliged to repeat the same things for- 
ever? * 

Happily, this imagination which is so lively, is not cre- 
ative. Children left to themselves may be afraid of real 
objects, such as negroes, chimney-sweepers, masks, and 
may afterw^ards recur to the remembrance of them with 
terror ; but they forge few chimeras. It is very seldom 
that an idea pre-occupies their minds without it has been 
suggested. We may then readily go back to the source 
of their fears ; but the evil once introduced, is not so easy 
to be remedied. 



* It pains me to think that it will be so ; and that the pitiable and 
ridiculous invention of " M. Croquemitaine" has brought back the 
reign of ogres and bloody giants. Many believe that a ludicrous 
name prevents the danger; but the example cited by a French jour- 
nal, (the Constitutional,) of an unfortunate little being, who died 
of fright by the employment of this bugbear, proves such a belief to 
be a false one. 



252 OF THE IMAGINATION AT THREE YEARS, 

To succeed in it, it is first necessary to be well ac- 
quainted with human nature. The evil generally con- 
sists in the apparition of a phantom, whose aspect terrifies 
these poor children ; and consequently the essential point 
is not to call up this phantom in their memories. Upon 
this subject reasonings are always thrown away. While 
you are discoursing upon the small probability of danger, 
upon the miseries of fear, and the glory attached to cour- 
age, you may be certain that your child has the vision be- 
fore his eyes, and that the more you speak of it, the more 
you will give it consistence. Experience has proved that 
it is useless at any age, directly to combat the chimeras of 
imagination. To leave the predominant thought to be 
forgotten, to expel the sensation by a stronger one, to di- 
vert, interest and cultivate the moral and physical nature, 
is in general the best regimen against fear. A more di- 
rect remedy for an especial cure of it, is to substitute the 
presence of the formidable object for the idea in the child's 
mind. We do not imagine what we see, and the reality, 
even though it be disagreeable and repulsive, produces a 
tranquillizing effect upon the senses. This expedient, 
when it is possible to practise it, is very efficacious, but 
should be exercised with judgment. 

Indeed, all new terror, all agitation communicated to 
the nerves, will indefinitely retard the cure, and a little 
must be risked for this effect. Rousseau recommends 
plays of night ; but I will venture to say that those in 
which the child forgets fear, is far better than those in 
which he braves it. We must not trust to his loud and 
vociferous laughter; for it often appertains to feigned 
gaiety, to the desire of turning away his attention from 
the thought which haunts him ; and it is not pleasure 
that will leave the deepest impression upon his memory. 
In this way imitations of the cries of ferocious beasts, and 
sudden surprises in the dark, are attended with some 



OF THE IMAGINATION AT THREE YEARS. 253 

danger. The child, fond of excitement, may earnestly 
desire the repetition of scenes or stories which are a 
little frightful : this taste should be satisfied, but with 
great discretion. It is difficult to discover whether we 
keep up the habit of fear, or form that of courage. 

A peculiarity of the infantine imagination is, that it 
only concerns itself about the present time : in this respect 
it is very different from ours, which is always glancing, 
either before or behind ; reviving the past, or anticipating 
the future. The child does not interest himself in his 
sensations of the preceding day. An accident which has 
occurred through his fault, is like any other with which 
he has had no concern. Every morning he wakes with 
a feeling of innocence, and believes himself justified for 
all his faults, as soon as he has said, ' It was yesterday.' 

Nevertheless, when the future is at the same time both 
near and agreeable, the child thinks of it very willingly. 
We may observe him accurately counting the days which 
separate him from some festival, and see also that posi- 
tive promises have great influence over him. It is not so 
with threats. He does not believe in the approach of any 
thing unwelcome, or else he banishes the idea by saying, 
' It will be a long time first.' In his natural and healthy 
state, then, he experiences hope, but is a stranger to fear ; 
so careful has Heaven been to secure his happiness. 

When we think of the lively pleasures which are so 
easily procured to this age, — the happy period belonging 
only to infancy, and in which our love can so easily dis- 
pose every thing in its favor, — of the inexhaustible gaiety, 
of the avenues which are open on every side to joy, and 
shut to care and sorrow, — who can forbear the idea that 
the contentment of these cherished beings is a peculiar 
dispensation of Providence ? And if, as a celebrated man 
has said, happiness is, at every age, the most favorable at- 
mosphere for the germs of virtue, does it not seem that 
22 



254 OF THE IMAGINATION AT THREE YEARS. 

the Supreme Governor of all has wished to secure the 
morality of the man by the protracted felicity of the child 1 
This leads us to examine the peculiar character which 
the dispositions we have been speaking of give to the first 
dawnings of conscience. 



( 255 ) 



CHAPTER VI. 



OF THE CONSCIENCE BEFORE FOUR YEARS OLD. 

''Every child is another Adam: when he has once tasted the fruit 
of the tree of knowledge of good and evil, he is driven from the 
paradise of innocence." — Anonymous German writer. 

Unquestionably, nothing appears more irregular 
and more versatile, than the moral sentiment at the age of 
three years. This sentiment, nevertheless, exists, and be- 
comes manifest at this period, when the passions cease to 
have exclusive influence. The child has a vivid idea of 
good and evil, although he does not express it in general 
terms. He recognizes a law common to all, a tacit 
agreement which ought to be respected ; and all attacks 
upon truth, upon the rights of property, the enjoyments of 
others, offences and injuries, even though he does not suf- 
fer by them personally, excite his attention. .The point 
where he becomes interested Avithout being impassioned, 
it is difficult to ascertain, and between excitement and 
partiality there is little room for justice. 

Indeed the principles which predominate in his soul, 
rarely permit the child to judge with coolness. Always 
led away, always animated by some emotion, interested 
for himself or for those he loves, at times very selfish, 
he seems suddenly to put his own person in the place 



256 OF THE CONSCIENCE, 

of another ; but he is not more just when he is devoted. 
It is well if at this time bad feelings do not get the as- 
cendancy in his heart. We see in him, as in strong 
relief, the fantastic and unequal nature of our two most 
brilliant and most amiable faculties, imagination and sym- 
pathy. 

Likewise, an emotion truly engaging, that of pity, is in 
him capricious. He sometimes feels it even to tears, to 
distress, to the entire sacrifice of what gives him most 
pleasure; at other times he remains inacessible to this 
feeling. Every thing disgusting to the child hardens 
his heart. When a wounded animal is pretty, we see 
him tenderly participate his sufferings ; when he is ugly, 
he turns away Avith horror. His compassion vanishes 
whenever certain defects, such as deformity or absurdity, 
make him disdain to associate with the sufferer. Such, 
even at a later period of life, is the insufficiency of sym- 
pathy, that vacillating basis on which it has been vainly 
pretended we 'might found morality. 

From the nature of this feeling we may understand, 
that all actions from which suffering does not immedi- 
ately result to any individual, appear innocent to the 
child. He is also but little scrupulous about petty thefts, 
when no visible traces remain of them. There is one 
duty, however, that he admits without restriction, every 
time he conceives the idea of it, and that is obedience to 
the being upon whom he is dependent. 

I have already said that there was one person to whom 
a child, endowed with sensibility, believes himself ordi- 
narily to belong. To her he feels responsible for his 
conduct : his relations Avith others are much less inti- 
mate. He extricates himself from trouble as he can from 
those of less authority, but the I'eproaches of his true 
benefactor are felt to his inmost soul. She it is, who is 
his conscience. Her anticipated judgment absolves or 



BETORE FOUR YEARS OLD. 257 

condemns him. She it is, whom he sees in imagination 
at the decisive moment of trial ; she is often so vividly 
represented, that he can no longer disobey her, and by 
the tolerably natural effect of a strong illusion, he believes 
this even to be seen. Therefore the child is not astonish- 
ed, when, with the air of one who knows, this person 
questions him about his conduct when he was far from 
her sight : the idea of an invisible witness has nothing re- 
pugnant in it at this age. 

But if, through infirmity, or forgetfulness, the child 
yields to the temptation, when he returns to his benefactor 
remorse enters his heart. He would be able to see with- 
out emotion the proprietor of the fruits or flowers that he 
has taken; but his forehead reddens with shame, when 
he comes in contact with the representative of his con- 
science. To her he pours out his confessions, his ten- 
der and touching explanations: it is when with her that 
he experiences that necessity of expiation, so natural to 
a guilty heart. Afterwards, when he Ij^s committed 
some^great fault, we sometimes see him punishing him- 
self 

If women would but attentively examine their- hearts, 
how often would they also find in themselves a relative 
morality, dependent upon their affections. How often is 
their most delicate and sensitive conscience, but the idea 
of a being tenderly beloved, and a little feared ; who sees 
them, follows them, who suffers or enjoys in every thing 
that occurs to them. This conscience is a very good 
thing ; but another is, notwithstanding, very necessary. 

If sympathy is not a solid foundation for morality, it is 
undoubtedly one of its sources during infancy. The love 
and respect which parents inspire, gradually become con- 
nected with the obligations they impose : their judgment, 
always anticipated, acquires authority of itself; and the 
more independent idea of duty takes possession of the 
22* 



258 OF THE CONSCIENCE, 

child's heart. And when he sees that the same law con- 
trols his parents, when he finds it universally observed 
around him, when above all he feels it to be in accordance 
with the intimations confusedly given him by conscience, 
then he daily advances more and more within the domain 
of moral feeling. 

One obstacle to his progress in this way, is a want of 
the notion of time. The nullity of the past excludes re- 
gret, that of the future excludes fear; and w^iilst the idea 
of the consequences of each action, would be a good aux- 
iliary for conscience, the child who does not distinctly 
see how facts influence each other, places no importance 
upon his determinations. His extreme volatility delivers 
his impressions to the -wind; his recollections, upon 
which he never reflects, soon pass away ; and if events re- 
mained in his memory, his past motives would always be 
forgotten. Too changeable to believe himself the same, 
the child of to-day, answers not to him of yesterday. He 
has not that Qonsciousness of the succession of thought 
which gives the idea of identity and that of time, two 
things in a great degree dependent upon each other. 
One self, the unmoved spectator of the variations of anoth- 
er self, incessantly regulating and noting its changes, this 
is what constitutes our identity, and by it our morality. 
But in the child nothing is yet decided. 

It follows from this that the sooner we form a connexion 
between the past and the present in his mind, the sooner Ave 
shall introduce him into a moral as well as a rational state 
of being. I say betvv'een the past and the present, because 
it is necessary to commence Avith these. The influence 
of preceding events upon those which have followed is 
clear, evident, and easy to prove ; whilst the future, un- 
certain as it always is, appears still more so to the child. 
He sets at defiance our threatening predictions ; but when 
we shall have shown him clearly that each day he must 



BEFORE FOUR YEARS OLD. 259 

sufier the consequences of the preceding, he will gradu- 
ally comprehend the connecting chain. 

Thus the young child delivered to the empire of early 
inclinations, has dawnings of morality, although not yet 
a moral being. The absence of reflection is manifest in 
all he does. Forming no general rule, and not applying 
the rule to himself when he is made to understand it, he 
does not exert his will in aid of his moral nature. As 
little worthy of contempt' for his faults, as of esteem for 
his good actions, the little child may appear to us more or 
less interesting, having, like animals a nature which at- 
taches or repulses us ; but we cannot, without doing vio- 
lence to reason, believe that the responsibility for his con- 
duct rests with him, as much as with us, or consider him 
as culpable for his faults. 

Such is the state of the soul in infancy. But when 
after having passed through various gradations, the in- 
fant shall arrive at manhood, what will be his condition 
in a moral point of view ? The ideas that w^e form of hu- 
man nature have so much influence upon education, that 
it is essential to have some fixed opinions, on this subject, 
which is one of debate even at the present day. 

The most sacred authority of all, the Holy Scriptures, has 
pronounced the heart of man to be corrupt. This sentence 
has appeared hard, even rev^olting ; and as it seemed that 
a truth relating to our nature must manifest itself in a 
thousand ways in human life, we believe that the impar- 
tial scrutiny of acknowledged facts, and the consequences 
which flow from them, have tended to confirm this severe 
declaration. We ask, then, if experience has shown that 
man was always guilty ? and in case he was, does it fol- 
low that his heart must be corrupt ? 

Who can doubt that man is sinful ? Who can have his 
sense of right so blunted as not to condemn himself? 
What do we find in our minds ? A profound conviction 



260 OF THE CONSCIENCE, 

of the freedom of our determinations, and a knowledge, 
sufficiently clear, of the course which duty points out to 
us. What do we see in our conduct 1 Constant devia- 
tions from the good path which we are able to pursue. 
Responsible, because we are free ; incapable of rendering 
a satisfactory account of our actions, or even of our inten- 
tions ; we find our sentence written in the law which we 
acknowledge to be just. The best thing in us, the correct 
idea which we have of virtue, condemns us ; and we can- 
not justify, without degrading ourselves. 

By challenging the tribunal of that loose morality which 
judges of actions by the general standard- of social life; 
by seeing righteousness where it alone is, in God himself, 
sin and its frightful extent meets our view on every side. 
This belief of it, (and it is the only true one,) we find in 
all religious creeds. Man, by transgressing the law, has 
always believed he offended the Law-giver who imposed 
it ; he has always sought to appease a justly offended de- 
ity; he is always compared to an insolvent debtor; and 
this idea, consecrated in many modes of worship, has re- 
ceived in that of Christians the most august of sanctions. 

But what is the source of that evil which we cannot 
but acknowledge in our actions? Is it inherent in our 
nature, or must we affirm, with some modern philosophers, 
that all our inclinations, innocent in themselves, become 
bad only by the use we make of them ; and when misled 
a moment^ we find a pleasure in rectifying them which 
surpasses the regret of having transgressed ? Sin would 
then become a simple accident, an effect of inattention, or 
of weakness; and it would not be found rooted in the re- 
cesses of our hearts. 

This system has obtained numerous partisans in the 
present age ; but is the supposition on which it is founded 
just, and does not the practical observation of the human 
heart give it the lie continually ? Has he. who maintains 



BEFORE FOUR YEARS OLD. 261 

that our natural inclinations are of themselves innocent, 
and susceptible of being- rightly directed, made a complete 
enumeration of them? has he searched into the nature of 
each ? What does he make of envy in this doctrine? 
Does he forget that it is impossible to direct this vile dis- 
position towards good ? And I speak not of the emotion, 
perhaps excusable, which makes us feel more keenly the 
privation of an advantage which we see another possess ; 
I speak of the desire which this other indulges ; and the 
happiness which he acquires by it is counterbalanced by 
some trouble in its attainment. Is there not also a ming- 
ling of malicious feeling in anger, and in all those pas- 
sionate and perverse propensities which cause us pleasure 
in the miseries of others ? That an element of virtuous 
indignation, of justice, and whatever w^e imagine of good, 
may enter into such dispositions, I admit ; but how can 
we avoid seeing the pernicious principle which takes 
pleasure, and even delight in making our neighbor's suf- 
fer? a propensity very different from that which it be- 
comes us to defend. Malignity, as its name indicates, too 
much resembles an active principle of evil, not to vitiate 
the best mixture, in w^hatever proportion it may be found 
in it. And let us not say that perverse inclinations are 
necessary, that they make a part of the general order. By 
suppressing envy and hatred, the course of the world 
w^ould be much more peaceful. Anger perplexes and 
blinds, more than it serves us. Even in the case of an 
unforeseen attack, the best safeguard would be coolness 
That increase of energy which we think is owing to ex- 
citement, is furnished by the simple view of danger, and 
in order to save a house from the flames, one W'ill make 
as vigorous efforts as to deliver himself from an enemy. 
Is there not, if I may so speak, a luxury in sin, which, 
like a foreign poison, communicates itself to our nature? 
If the meaning of the terms attached to good and evil, 



262 OF THE CONSCIENCE, 

were submitted to a metaphysical analysis, it is unques- 
tionably possible that we might be reduced to define evil 
by negative expressions, and to say that it is disorder op- 
posed to order, or, in short, the contrary to good. But 
this discussion would be without object as applicable to 
the domain of moral feeling, where these terms answer to 
the ideas so univ^sally received, that we cannot attempt 
to change the acceptation of them. Besides, even if the 
notion of evil were negative,* there would still be no re- 
sult to draw from it in favor of the goodness of our origi- 
nal constitution. 

In a very general point of view, a certain degree of or- 
der, and it may be of goodness, is necessary to the preser- 
vation of all mankind. Wherever this degree is not 
found, disorganization, decomposition, and corruption ex- 
ist. An animated being, in the very fact that he lives, 
presents some idea of order ; otherwise he would destroy 
himself, or would not be suffered among his kind. The 
most depraved men, if they are not fools, observe this law 
in some point : they do not commit evil in all its forms, 
and for this reason alone, because it is evil. But as in 
that degree of cold where animal life ceases, there is still 
warmth in the opinion of the chemist, so we may recog- 
nize the elements of goodness in that degree of corruption, 
where there is no longer moral life. The feeling always 
exists in the heart, but too feebly, and too unequally dis- 
tributed ; and Avherever it is paralyzed, decomposition en- 



* This opinion Madame Guizot has supported with infinite spirit 
in her ' Lettressur I'Education domestique,' of which I have already 
spoken. Too rigid a moralist not to confess that man is giiilty, 
Madame Guizot denies the existence of evil propensities ; and al- 
though admitting that evil is every where, she believes the idea of 
it is purely negative, and consequently does not allow that there is 
any active principle of evil in the human soul. [Ed.] 



REFORE FOUR YEARS OLD. 263 

sues, the moral being dies partially, and there is thus, the 
seeds of death in every soul. 

What would be in this case the evil inclinations whose 
existence 1 have recognized 1 They would be those per- 
nicious dispositions, which tend to extinguish in us the 
love of goodness, and to deprive us of that sensibility 
which constitutes our life. When the heart no longer 
possesses good emotions; when death has invaded the 
region where conscience dwells, the most trifling motives, 
the simple hope of a new emotion, is sufficient to excite 
to the greatest crimes. Destroy pity, and Nero will set 
fire to Rome, because the sight of the conflagration gives 
inspiration to his singing. The idea of displaying ex- 
traordinary power, of finding a kind of intoxicating en- 
joyment, in those acts which are interdicted to most 
men, is capable of inciting to frightful attempts, the un- 
happy wretch who has nothing to restrain him. 

It imports little, then, that the idea of evil or disorder 
be negative, if disorder is a cause of disorganization. The 
absence of a necessary element is as great a calamity as 
the presence of a dangerous one. The tree in which the 
sap does not rise, the body where the blood has ceased to 
flow, and the soul which is not touched with the love of 
goodness, are equally seized with unsoundness of consti- 
tution, and ruin is the consequence. Is corruption, moral 
as well as physical, any thing else than the privation of 
the principle of life, than that death which gradually takes 
possession of us ? 

When one has once entered the domain of moral feel- 
ing, he desires above all things to find a language which 
corresponds to the power of conscience, and this language 
possesses a truth of which no argument can depriye it. 
We feel, very decidedly, that many actions which are 
conformed to rule, have no moral value. Providence has 
so constituted the world that order conducts to happiness, 



264 OF THE CONSCIENCE, 

disorder to calamity. Consequently, man is often obser- 
vant of order, when he remains a stranger to the idea of 
duty. He is in the way of good, without willing to do 
good, and has no title to esteem for it. Therefore, far 
from finding in all that is lawfully done upon the earth, a 
proof of the morality of human nature, we see in it only 
a mark of simple good sense ; and the violation of the law 
appears to us the effect of a strange perversity. Negative 
terms suffice no longer to diminish our contempt for that 
which is at once a vice, and a folly ; we attribute a body 
to the evil from the reality of its principle ; and our imag- 
ination furnishes strength to seize upon the enemy, with 
which we are forever destined to contend. 

However it may be, one fact alone remains incontesti- 
ble. It is, that man commits sin, knowing it to be sin ; 
that the law is written in oar hearts, and that unlawfu^ 
dispositions incline us to transgress it. Some of these, 
such as malignity and envy, by their very nature oppose 
our obedience to the law: others oppose no obstacle to 
it, excepting accidentally; but whatever they may be, we 
often yield to them, at the same time acknowledging that 
they are not irresistible. This no reasoning can conceal, 
and the most scrupulous man feels it the most sensibly. 
Little faults in his eyes, are of the same nature as great 
ones, and differ from them only in degree. When he has 
once been vanquished in the conflict, he can no longer 
tell Avhere there will be an end to defeat; he feels himself 
to be on slippery ground, where he is insecure, and he 
calls with loud cries for a hand to support him. He wants 
assistance to combat the propensities which are ready to 
mislead him, to give him the hope of seeing their strength 
diminish; and above all, he wants peace restored to his 
troubled conscience. 

But to return to the observation of childre-ji. Do we 
find in studying them, that there is any evil propensity 



BEFORE FOUR YEARS OLD, 265 

inevitably attached to their moral constitution 1 If we 
except a general disposition to egotism, which is blended 
from birth with selfishness, (a necessary feeling, but ex- 
isting in the extreme,) we cannot discover any that is 
universal in them. As they are not obliged to commit 
faults, but nevertheless do commit them incessantly, so no 
vicious inclination necessarily predominates in them, but 
as the germ exists in the heart, there is always some one 
manifest. It is easy to distinguish a threatening side in 
every character, but our care has the power of balancing 
or weakening dangerous propensities, before they result 
in habits. 

The most essential thing in education, after the culture 
of good feelings, -which I believe I have sufficiently rec- 
ommended, is to prevent the progress of evil inclinations, 
that they may not become established by repeated indul- 
gence, and give birth to defects that will be difficult to 
correct. It is consequently useless to form beforehand, 
the idea of the inclinations we are called to repress, and 
in the number there is one which is doubtless too slight 
to be called an inclination, but frequent and fatal enough 
to justify me in the mention of it. 

I speak of that momentary depravation of the will, 
which finds a pleasure, a peculiar relish in the idea of 
violating rules. This movement, whether we would at- 
tribute it to the action of bad principle, or would see in it 
a false direction of the instinct of independence, has been 
so often remarked in the human race, that it has been de- 
signated by the proverbial expression of a ' taste for for- 
bidden fruit.' We observe indeed in children something 
besides weakness, besides the inability of submitting to 
sacrifices exacted by duty, we see them rejoice to shake 
oflf the yoke of obedience. A revolt against all rule, 
against even that law of right which is e'ngraved in their 
inmost heart, is not an unnatural movement with them. 
23 



266 OF THE CONSCIENCE, 

There is a time when the child, and alas ! man also, is 
seized with a savage intoxication, a time when desires 
long subjected, resume their empire ; it is the revelling of 
evil inclinations. At this time outrage, violence, the suf- 
fering or humiliation of others, disorder, and in a word, 
sin, seems to delight the soul, and become its element. 
Reason, and especially religion, may prevent the return 
of this rebellious state ; but it is one in which children will 
sometimes fall even with the greatest care. A little girl, 
of whom I have already spoken, a child who was sweet 
and gentle, and appeared generally to take delight in obe- 
dience, seemed sometimes to pride herself in openly refus- 
ing it. At eighteen months she manifested the double 
desire of observing rules, and defying them. Remaining 
alone with her mother, who was confined to the bed by 
illness, she one day, without the least apparent motive, 
burst forth into open rebellion. Dresses, hats, screens, 
working materials, all that she could lay her hands upon, 
were thrown on the floor in the middle of the chamber ; 
she simg and danced around the pile with great joy, nor 
could the remonstrances of her mother produce any effect 
upon her. She seemed possessed with the desire of evil : 
her blushes betrayed the reproaches of conscience, but her 
pleasure consisted in stifling its voice. 

It is the same also with that love of cruelty which little 
boys sometimes show in their sports, after they have pass- 
ed the age of early infancy. When they make an animal 
suffer, they doubtless have a motive of curiosity ; they 
wish to see how the poor creature will behave, while they 
torment it ; but the point, the excellency of the diversion 
is to have the emotion which they experience, to harden 
themselves against pity, and have the boldness to be cruel. 

I feel true regret in writing these things, and I wound 
my own heart in accusing that of children. How can we 
avoid loving them tenderly ? How can we help being 



BEFORE FOUR YEARS OLD. 267 

beguiled and captivated by their charms 1 These poor 
children sin continually in intention, but this intention is 
not accomplished. When they wish to dissemble, they do 
not deceive; when they would hurt us, they have not the 
power: we take their simplicity for candor, and their 
weakness for innocence. And then they are so change- 
able — a token of sensibility, of sincerity, of confidence, 
succeeds so quickly to a period of falsehood or selfishness, 
that we forget all, but that which renders them more dear 
to us. But shall we love them less, shall they have less 
•a claim to our profoundest pity, when we feel that they 
possess the same sinful nature that we do ? when we 
know that like us, they bear in their bosoms enemies 
against which we ought unceasingly to arm them ? I see 
them, like ail the rest of human kind, doing evil often 
when they know it not, and doing it also when they are 
conscious of it. 

Is it said this doctrine is dangerous, — that by professing 
it we prepare too many excuses for weakness in tempta- 
tion ? It is important to know if, by not professing it, we 
prepare them with sufficient defence in trial. There is 
nothing dangerous but error. It is useless to hope that 
we may" form morality with other elements than those of 
human nature; it is emphatically so to suppose that if the 
work could be executed, it would be susceptible of being 
preserved If we are not assured beforehand of the solid- 
ity of the ground on which we have built, if the edifice 
has been constructed upon the deceitful foundation of nat- 
ural purity, ' when the rains descend, and the floods come, 
and the winds blow, and beat against that house it will 
fall, and the ruin of it will be great.' 

I shall expose the moral consequences of this doctrine, 
which is, I think, very favorable to the development of con- 
science, when I speak of the age at which it may be com- 
prehended by children. It is sufificient to say here, that 



268 OF THE CONSCIENCE, ETC. 

the decision pronounced in the Gospel on the human 
heart, connected as it is, with the whole Christian doc- 
trine, has the primary advantage of imparting mildness to 
education. Parents, convinced of the inherent vice of our 
nature, in discovering the faults of their children, do not 
experience that surprise and deep indignation which in- 
clines them to severity ; they are ready to contend in sea- 
son with the propensities they have anticipated, and they 
do not sleep in a deceitful security. The children, in turn, 
more easily convinced of their faults, do not oppose to the 
reprimands of their parents such revolt, such obstinate 
pride, and avowals, so often false, 'of pure intentions ; 
faults which only aggravate those already committed. 
More docile than others, and more easily led to repent- 
ance after their transgressions, there is less prospect of 
their committing new ones; and this without their seeking 
a vain justification in the evil of their nature. They felt 
themselves free, before they acted; and the persuasion that 
they had power to abstain from the evil which seduced 
them, is too just and strong to be shaken. 

But in order that children may resist the greatest possi- 
ble temptations, and feel true regret when they have yield- 
to them, it is necessary to know how to inspire them with 
the religious feelings of which their age is susceptible. 
This subject remains to be treated of. 



( 269 ) 



CHAPTER VII. 

THE ADVANTAGES OF AN EAREY DEVELOPMENT OF 
RELIGIOUS FEELING- 

^'Atheism is not an opinion; il is no longer tlie negation of an 
■opinion ; it is a blindness ; it is a deadness of the moral organ." 

J. P, RiCHTER. 

Thus far I have reasoned much, have recommended 
scrutiny, and invoked experience ; perhaps I shall not be 
accused of a blind enthusiasm, if I now speak of religion, 
I have wished to come to this subject, and notwithstand- 
ing, now that I have fulfilled my intention by first de- 
scribing infancy, a sort of fear, although I know not why, 
restrains me ; the grandeur of the subject astonishes and 
suspends my faculties ; and I remember only the weak- 
ness of the age I have to do witk How shall I express 
my desire, how advise to present to the limited intelligence 
of a child of three or four years, the object which surpass- 
es all intelligence, which could not be embraced by our 
mind in its most perfect development ? 

Nevertheless, I will say, that in the contemplation of 
such an object, all idea of common proportion vanishes, 
ail appears placed upon the same level. To comprehend 
Godi who can do it but God himself? Men, angels, 
children, — we can only prostrate ourselves before him. To 
23* 



270 THE ADVANTAGES OF AN EARLY 

adore and bless him, to obey his holy law, to submit to 
his immutable decrees, to have a glimpse of his perfections 
without seeing them in all their lustre, such ought to be 
our employment in time and eternity. 

The child is in many respects happily qualified to ful- 
fil this universal vocation. Less fettered than we are by 
rooted habits, his ties with the earth less binding, he can 
believe what he does not see, and love what he does not 
intimately know. Grave and solemn impressions are 
sometimes painted in his looks, but as yet he wants lan- 
guage to express them. His face has given the idea of 
that of angels : radiant, celestial, touching, it has been 
used as an emblem of the adoration of pure spirits. His 
whole language is a prayer : feeling more than we do his 
own weakness, he also knows better his need of assist- 
ance, and he possesses much more the spirit of filial ten- 
derness. What does he then want in order to approach his 
God ? Religion sleeps in his bosom, if I may so say ; it 
is less necessary to inspire, than to awaken it. 

The soul is naturally religious ; this fact which is con- 
spicuously show^n in the annals of the human race, may 
be made manifest in the tenderest infancy ; but education 
ought to place it in the strongest light, and this is its most 
important task. 

This task ought undoubtedly to be fulfilled. We could 
not exempt the child from the laws imposed by humanity, 
wlten even the question is to communicate to him the best 
of all privileges. Our most natural feeling only becomes 
manifest, when the exciting cause is present; otherwise it 
is only a vague desire, a want unsatisfied. Even in this 
ambiguous state, a propensity may exhibit signs of exist- 
ence, although it does not possess the means of gratifica- 
tion. He who experiences it, is tormented with a certain 
uneasiness, and it impedes the harmonious development 
of his faculties. The soul which does not exert all its 



DEVELOPMENT OF RELIGIOUS FEELING. 271 

powers suffers a partial decay, without knowing what is 
wanting to its vigor. A young cygnet raised far from the 
water, ahhough having no distinct idea of its native ele- 
ment, would languish ; restless, agitated, or drooping at 
intervals, his despondency, emaciation, and the yellow 
tint of his plumage would sufficiently indicate that his 
destination was not accomplished. At the sight of a stag- 
nant pool, he would plunge into it, and this noble bird, 
wallowing in filth, would appear but a degenerate thing, 
the refuse and shame of creation. Bat give him the liv- 
ing stream ; let the pure waters of some noble river re- 
store his vigor, and you will see the cygnet in its beauty. 
In a few days his brilliant whiteness, the grace, majesty 
and rapidity of his motions, will show you what his na- 
ture is, and what element was wanting to its develop- 
ment. 

Such is our soul : it can live without adoring God, but 
it is languishing and withered ; or it can change its de- 
sires and plunge in superstition. Such we see it upon the 
borders of the Ganges; but on the shores of the Atlantic, 
where a new world has risen up, we learn how religion 
elevates the soul. 

To develope the noblest instinct of humanity, by giving 
it a right direction ; to bestow upon the young child such 
an amount of religious instruction as is meet for him, 
proportioning it to his mental progress — this is our duty; 
and cares, in themselves so sweet, will also be rewarded 
with success. But the longer we delay, this success, 
otherwise infallible, v/ill become uncertain, or difficult to 
secure. 

It seems that sometimes a sort of reverence for holy 
things, deters parents from presenting the idea to their 
children, before they have attained the age of reason. 
Such a scruple would be excusable ; but why are those 
who feel it exempt from the same, when other objects are 
in question, which they also reverence? Do they raise a 



272 THE ADVANTAGES OF AN EARLY 

similar doubt, when the desire is to excite some other 
feeling which is necessary, or only laudable 1 Have you 
waited in order to render dear and sacred to your son the 
name of father, until he rightly knows what constitutes pa- 
ternity ? Have you never pronounced to him with love, 
the name of his country, before he could form the idea of 
his relationship as a citizen? You Avish not to allow 
your child the liberty of being ungrateful towards his 
country, and you involuntarily conduct him to the possi- 
bility of being ungrateful to his God. 

There are in a religious education two different de- 
signs, which it is important to distinguish ; that of inspir- 
ing the child with pious sentiments, &nd that of teaching 
him how to answer those who would deprive him of such 
sentiments, by denying the reality of their object. These 
two designs should unquestionably be attempted ; but if 
you wait for the favorable moment to press the one, you 
will lose that of succeeding in the other. There is no 
want of tenderness in attempting both at once ; the child 
is not an unbeliever Avho is to be convinced. It is useless 
to force arguments upon him; if you follow this course 
before the proper time, you will give him a false science, 
or rather a science, which, although true, is not true with 
respect to him, since he is not in a state to appreciate the 
solidity of the principles upon which it is based. It will 
be thus, until the age when it will cease to be easy to di- 
rect his sentiments. 

There is, I admit, a difficulty opposed to us, which de- 
ranges the routine of education. Is it our object to estab- 
lish truths ? we would Avish to lay down principles, and 
regularly to deduct consequences from them. Is the 
question to communicate feelings ? we would desire to 
give an exact idea of the object to which they ought to be 
applied, in order to teach children to place their affections 
only where they know the cause. If we had presided at 



DEVELOPMENT OF RELIGIOUS FEELING. 273 

the formation of moral being, we might have arranged 
things different. We might have had reason spring forth 
first, and then nothing would have been cultivated in the 
soul but under her auspices. Heaven has not decided 
thus. The child already loves, what he has not judged 
of; the development of his faculties is not conformed to 
logical order, neither the way in which ideas enter his 
head ; and the manner in which he connects them is not 
like ours. This is sad ; but what can we do ? Shall we 
suffer the best gifts to be lost, out of respect to our own 
method 1 This is the fault, that they who maintain this 
sentiment too often commit. To ask if religion is neces- 
sary for the child, is to call in question its necessity for 
man. 

I say more: there is so little necessity of waiting for 
the age of reason in order to teach your child piety, that 
even if it had attained that age, you ought not, as I think, 
to commence the instruction with argument. Presented as 
facts, and announced with truth and simplicity, the funda- 
mental truths of religion may be confided to their own 
strength, and of themselves produce conviction. To in- 
troduce these great subjects by discussion, by proofs; to 
suppose objections for the sake of refuting them, is to give 
an inauspicious direction to thought, which injures the de- 
velopment of the genuine religious sense; a direction 
which is too often implanted, Avhich is difficult to change, 
and which tends to make an exercise of the mind, of what 
ought to be a worship of the soul. 

Was it then only the better to avoid an evil, religious 
education ought to precede the age of reason. But let 
us not mistake : I do not fear at all that the strongest and 
most enlightened argument can shake the foundation of 
such an education. With respect to this, even the prog- 
ress of light reassures us ; since, independently of the 
revival of the religious spirit in the present age, the most 



274 THE ADVANTAGES OF AN EARLY 

elevated flights of philosophy have put unbelief to the 
blush. Be assured, you will one day obtain the assent of 
reason, but be careful that it may have something to con- 
firm it ; and think that the religion which resides only in 
the head, is useless for the guidance as well as the happi- 
ness of man. 

What is the true object of a religious education? It is 
to teach the young soul to communicate with God, since 
the consciousness of such a communication, whatever 
abuse it may have suffered from enthusiasm, is neverthe- 
less the very essence of religion. Without the persua- 
sion that our cry is heard ; without the hope that at least 
a tacit answer is obtained, that blessings are poured upon 
us in return for the offering of prayer, there is nothing 
consoling, nothing regenerating in worship ; it is no longer 
worship, and the lonely spirit soon ceases to present a 
useless homage. 

In order to establish this intimate and sacred intercourse, 
in order to produce the feeling of such a correspondence, 
the path opened to us in the Gospel is the only known, 
the only sure, and, in short, the only one in which we 
could find assistance. Jesus Christ the Mediator, Inter- 
cessor, and Redeemer, removes in many ways the obstacles 
which human nature opposes to the progress of religion 
in our souls. Placing himself in the immense interval 
which separates finite beings from Infinity, the unhappy 
from the source of happiness, sinners from eternal holi- 
ness, he reconciles our hearts to God, he places Him 
within our reach, and within that of the humblest among 
us. This innumerable multitude, condemned to remain 
strangers to the language of cultivated minds, hear 
another language ; the ignorant are called, childhood is 
called, and all that belong to the human race. Wherever 
we find dispositions which are so peculiar to the child, 
as love, confidence, and submission, we see Jesus Christ 
offer to guide them. In saying ' Suffer little children to 



DEVELOPMENT OF RELIGIOUS FEELING. 275 

come unto me,' he seems to have revealed our duty as pa- 
rents, and the general spirit of his worship. 

Religion, undoubtedly, could not all at once be compre- 
hended by the mind of the child ; the august assemblage 
of the truths which compose it, or which rally around it, 
are not displayed to his feeble eyes ; but all that is most 
lovely and consoling in piety, all that supports, animates, 
and inflames our souls, and can still re-kindle them upon 
the chilling borders of the tomb ; all this, I say, may be 
experienced by the child, before he can be taught to rea- 
son about them. 

Since the distinctive character of Christianity, and the 
means of instruction furnished by sacred books, permit us 
tp inspire our children with the love of God, how can we 
avoid making use of such a privilege ! how help foresee- 
ing that this feeling, early conceived, will take deep root 
in the heart ! If religion has a date, if the period of its 
birth is not lost in the weakness of infancy, if there are 
remembrances which have preceded it, it is not the insep- 
arable companion of existence. Of all the . ideas connect- 
ed with it, that which is most likely to purify the inmost 
recesses of the heart, the persuasion of the presence of 
God, has not at once the continuity of a habit, and the 
depth of an unceasingly renewed impression. Perhaps 
at a later age we might succeed in introducing it through 
fear ; but then it would assume an inauspicious character. 
It is at the era when all nature smiles upon us, when all 
our species love and protect us, that the idea of a God who 
befriends and watches over us, easily takes possession of 
our souls. And how full of blessing is this one idea ! 
who can appreciate its benefits, who know the inexhaus- 
tible fund of hope which is comprised in it ! It shows us 
a bright world beyond our own, a celestial perfection far 
exceeding the greatest of this human nature, a happiness 
more abounding and more pure than we can form any 



276 THE ADVANTAGES OF AN EARLY 

idea of here below ; and, in short, it persuades us that even 
affliction is sent for our good. ' Although he slay me,' 
says Job, ' I will still trust in him..' In the deepest solitude, 
in exile, in old age, in death, God is with us ; he supports, 
he hears, he speaks to us, he re-assures us: and if the 
danger is great, imminent, 'inevitable, if the shadows of 
death surround us, it is because he would receive us to 
his bosom. A mild and rainbow radiance is shed upon 
every object, an atmosphere of love envelopes all nature ; 
men, animals, even the material creation — plants, rivers, 
and mountains, all are loved ; all are the works of God ; 
all speak a language which serves to tell us He is our 
Father; and the peace and happiness which he sheds 
abroad in the soul, repeats it with a stronger emphasis. 

What other time than that of happy infancy, would we 
choose for the communication of such impressions ? What 
other time to make a pleasure, of what will always be a 
duty ? In order that religion may be fully enjoyed, life 
must be in its flower, it must be clothed in all its beauty. 
When this beauty shall fade, when the brightness which 
environed this terrestrial world shall have disappeared ; 
then the heavens, as in the night, will doubtless appear 
sparkling with light, but it will be dark around us. It is 
to the youth alone that the sun shines in its brightest 
splendor : he alone is permitted to glorify God by lofty 
deeds ; upon him is lavishly poured the full treasury of 
holy feelings — feelings whose blissful remembrance pre- 
sents the antepast of eternal felicity, at that advanced age, 
when he is no longer able to devise means for his own 
happiness. . 

To pretend to supply, by a bold stroke, or a theatrical 
scene, as Rousseau says, the power of long remembrances 
and of early habits, is to know but little of the human 
heart. A thousand unforeseen circumstances may cause 
the scene to fail ; and should it succeed, it would never 



DEVELOPMENT OF RELIGIOUS FEELING. 277 

produce more than a slight hnpression. Soon life would 
return to its former course^ and religious ideas be dissipa- 
ted ; while on the contrary, the course of life would re- 
store them, when we had been careful to associate them 
with all the remembrances of youth. Moreover, we should 
never be able thus to introduce Christianity, and the con- 
sequence would be the possession of a religion destitute of 
influence. 

Religion ought to be a motive ; from this point we should 
never depart. When we thus consider it, we see that it 
is essential to prevent the formation of other motives, 
which act in a contrary way; it furthermore, has power 
to make those subordinate, which usually act in the same 
great line. Thus the fear of blame, or the love of praise, 
important interests, the desire of being useful, and all vir- 
tuous feelings which most frequently second religious 
acts, ought to grow under its shade. Cultivated, as acces- 
sory motives, they are good and useful ; and occupy an 
important place in the varied occurrences of time; but 
each one carries within itself a secret poison, which is not 
slowly manifested when its influence is not balanced, or 
opposed. 

These ideas are so grand and fruitful, that I feel my 
impotence to express them. I cannot readily point out 
what the eternal existence of an angel would hardly suf- 
fice to develope. I must of necessity then be brief, but 
will finish, by a consideration of another kind, presented 
to another class of readers. 

I have spoken until now to parents, who think they 
have not religion enough in their families ; it remains to 
address those who are doubtful whether they have not too 
much, although this last feeling, as I believe, refers to it 
in a very mistaken point of view. Religion is the love 
of God expressed by obedience to his will. And as the 
will of God, such as he has engraven it on our hearts, 
24 



278 THE ADVANTAGES OF AN EARLY 

and more expressly announced it in the Gospel, is, that we 
might accomplish our whole duty ; we can no more love 
God too much, than we can love goodness, of which he is 
the eternal source, too much. Christian morality, is the 
best morality ; there is no habitual deviation from the 
most severe virtue, or the most scrupulous delicacy, which 
does not suppose a correspondent change in the spirit of 
Christianity ; the law is always with it to condemn trans- 
gressors, and to show that they have violated its princi- 
ples. 

If we faithfully examine the faults, of which men are 
accused, who display a high standard of Christianity, we 
shall see that these faults are due to the necessarily in- 
complete action of the regenerating principle, in the midst 
of a corrupt world ; to the state of conflict connected with 
such a principle in society, in families, and even in the 
bosom of individuals. What is proved by the inconsis- 
tencies, which are so much censured, in certain persons, 
who think themselves holy, if it is not the excellence of a 
doctrine, whose purity contrasts with the weakness of the 
human heart, and gives an odious coloring to its vices? 
What is proved by the hypocrisy, of which false devotees 
are guilty, if it is not that the reality of the Christian vir- 
tues is so far seen, that it is thought to be an advantage to 
assume the garb of piety ? What is proved, in short, by 
fanaticism, notwithstanding the fear which this word just- 
ly excites ; what is proved by it, if it is not that there is 
such a beauty, such a grandeur in religious perceptions, 
and they are attended by so much happiness, that they 
may become a passion, in despite of their immaterial na- 
ture ? Let us repress every disorderly movement, howev- 
er noble may be its origin ; but in order to prevent this 
kind of excess, as well as every other, a religious educa- 
tion early commenced, and judiciously conducted, is the 
most effectual means. 



DEVELOPMENT OF RELIGIOUS FEELING, 279 

When a feeling very general in our species, is at the 
same time «o natural that we cannot exhaust its source, 
the only means to prevent it from gaining the ascendan- 
cy, is ourselves to direct the course of it. How would 
you keep your son from the influence of religion ? Its 
worship is not only celebrated in temples, but the human 
race is so constituted that a voice of prayer is heard on 
every side. Poetry, the arts, and even the theatre, repre- 
sent the image of heavenly things, although sometimes 
robbed of their beauty. In all places on the earth, op- 
pressed weakness turns to God, persecuted innocence calls 
upon him, grief invokes him with its tears. Where will 
you take your child that these pervading feelings may 
never reach his heart? The strongest impressions are 
caused by certain random-strokes, which unexpectedly 
fasten upon the soul. You therefore deliver a powerful 
resource to the mercy of events and men, by neglecting to 
possess yourself of it in season. 

We may ask enthusiasts in every kind of worship, 
where they make their most zealous proselytes ? Is it in 
pious and well-regulated families, where Christian habits 
are contracted from the cradle ? Undoubtedly not ; it is 
among those abandoned beings who have long remained 
strangers to religion. Whether the aberrations of passion, 
or an education altogether worldly, has turned the thoughts 
of man from the great interests of eternity, when once 
these interests are presented to him, when he fully con- 
siders the destiny of the immortal soul, no one can an- 
swer for the course his imagination will take. To reserve 
for the most dangerous age, the novelty of perceptions al- 
ways striking, and sometimes terrible, is to risk a revolu- 
tion too potent for human weakness. A sudden conversion 
is, I admit, often a happy, and sometimes a necessary cri- 
sis, but it is one which might be spared by a pious educa- 
tion* 



280 THE ADVANTAGES OF AN EARLY 

This last reflection has not escaped the observation of 
all authors. There, are some, possessing very little de- 
votion, who have advised, I am sorry to say, a sort of in- 
oculation of religious feeling, to the end that they might 
early deaden its activity. There is some truth in the 
observation upon which such advice is founded, but the 
object Avill not succeed; when, in order to be more secure 
of it, they confine themselves to the teaching of a sterile 
doctrine — of a Christianity purely nominal. If vital re- 
ligion is not pre-eminent in the soul, we shall encounter 
danger, when our object was to avoid it. It is necessary 
that an impulse be given, before it can be directed : noth- 
ing can accomplish nothing. A religion that comes not 
from the heart is not religion, and it produces happy ef- 
fects no farther than it deters from fatal ones. 

Whether you desire,' then, to preserve your child from 
the wildness of fanaticism, or the desolate sterility of an 
existence without hope, there is but one course to follow j 
inspire him with the mild sentiments of piety. Religion, 
which pervades the heart of infancy, takes the happy tint 
of that age, and is connected with its innocent enjoyments'. 
United to all its pleasures, she has nothing sad ; and to 
its studies, she has nothing rigid. Intellectual and reli- 
gious culture constrained to take the lead, follow a com- 
mon direction^ and transmit a character of reason and 
sanctity. The whole work of education is thereby facilitated. 
That which is most familiar to the soul, religious feeling, 
adds to the warmth of the natural affections. Religion 
has scarcely commenced its reign in the heart, than al- 
ready, faithful to its charming name, it binds fast.* The 
chain which connects man with God, unites us also to 
our children. A feeling of decided respect subjects them 



* It is well known that the word religion comes from religio — to 
tie hard, to bind fast. [Ed.] 



DEVELOPMENT OF RELIGIOUS FEELING. 281 

lo our authority, and even softens the impression of our 
discipline, by persuading them that it is not optional with 
us, and that a necessary severity is the effect of our obe- 
dience to the common law. We are the representatives 
of the Supreme Being, whom we adore with them ; and 
from the sublime idea of a Heavenly Father, a sacred- 
ness descends upon the earthly parents, which human 
imperfection cannot destroy. 
24* 



( 282 ) 



CHAPTER VIII. 

THE RELIGIOUS EDUCATION OF YOUNG CHILDREN, 
FIRST PERCEPTIONS. 

" To accustom children to read the Bible, is to teach them to keep 
habitually within reach of the means designed by God himself for 
our sanctification." — Mrs. More. 

For a child to believe in God, is almost to adore him. 
Faith and religious worship are intimately connected, 
since the idea of the Creator once conceived and under- 
stood, could not fail to excite in the soul sentiments of 
gratitude and love. As these two subjects may be sepa- 
rately considered, however, we will first ask in what way 
we should make the child acquainted with God. We 
may follow the same which God himself has made use of, 
to become manifest to the human race, by relating to the 
young pupil the events which have accompanied the suc- 
cessive revelations of him. 

' Religion,' says Fenelon, ' is altogether historic ; it is by 
a tissue of marvellous facts, that we find its establishment, 
its perpetuity, and all which ought to incline us to believe 
and practise it.' These words give the key to religious 
instruction. History furnishes the thread which connects 
eternal truths together, whether of morality or faith : she 
offers to the mother the means of unfolding them, and 



RELIGIOUS EDUCATION OF YOUNG CHILDREN. 283 

procures so much pleasure to the child, as disposes him 
to admit them. 

It is true, that an understanding of the facts made known 
in the Bible, seems already to suppose some perceptions 
of a very elevated nature; such as the existence of God, 
of his principal attributes, and of the immateriality of the 
soul : we may, nevertheless, relate to the child many parts 
of the Sacred History, before he is even in a state clearly 
to conceive these grand ideas. We are not aware how 
much we often forestall instruction by frequent illustra- 
tions. The definition of a word is often more difficult for 
the child to comprehend, than to arrive at its meaning in 
some other way. A mist which is gradually dissipated, 
is the image of what passes in his mind, as soon as he is 
introduced into a new region ; and as the words we make 
use of are explained only by other words, which them- 
selves need explanation, we feel that it is often necessary 
to depend upon the instinct of divination, in order, one 
after another, to elucidate vague perceptions. 

We ought, nevertheless, to facilitate as much as possi- 
ble, the work of this instinct. In relating to the child the 
history of the creation, of the terrestrial paradise, or any 
thing connected with them, you may pause upon the name 
of God, and without frightening him by questions too di- 
rect, sound him sufficiently to know what he understands 
by this name. The interrogatory method employed with 
address, searches out truth — almost invents it : the child 
animated by the pleasure of discovery, appropriates what 
has been really suggested to him, and preserves as his 
own good idea what he has been obliged to admit. This 
method of ancient date, is now very much employed, and 
is one of the best means to make use of, for the instruction 
of childhood. 

As every body, however, does not know how to exercise 
it, and as timid or very backward children, may be ren- 



284 THE RELIGIOUS EDUCATION OF 

dered unhappy by the necessity of replying, we ought 
not to attach too much importance to this means. The 
simple exposition of a truth, as soon as there is an op- 
portunity for expressing it, will succeed equally well, 
however little we may possess the art of awakening curi- 
osity. The object is to interest the child. In childhood^ 
knowledge is so imperfect, that it derives its greatest value 
from a remembrance of the pleasure attached to its acqui- 
sition ; since it will be from these remembrances that the 
pupil will at some future day endeavor to extend it. 
With regard to religion, above all, it is to be feared that 
impressions of constraint and weariness would be indefi- 
nitely prolonged during life. 

I am decided against the employment of proofs; and I 
would banish them, if for this reason alone, that they 
wound feeling, when it exists, and retard its formation, 
if it exists not. But I would yet have another motive. 
All proof supposes a doubt, and often possesses a power 
to call it into being, which fails to dissipate it. If the 
truth that we wished to establish, was evident, we un- 
doubtedly should not take the trouble to demonstrate it ; 
it is, then, necessary to give prominence to the contrarj'- 
proposition, in order to justify the employment of demon- 
stration. Hence two things are to be taught — error, that 
it may be refuted ; and truth, that it may be engraven on 
the mind : but the first is at least useless, and leaves often 
but too many traces. When we wish to prove the exist- 
ence of God, for example, we say that the admirable 
order of the world cannot be attributed to chance; and 
thereby we give reality and consistence to a chimerical 
being, named chance. We must needs create something, 
in order to say there is nothing ; but, as I have already 
remarked, the imagination of children is of that nature, 
that it is easy to call up phantoms in their mind, but not 
so easy to dispel them. 



YOUNG CHILDREN. FIRST PERCEPTIONS. 285 

What method do you take to communicate all other 
kinds of knowledge to your child ? You tell him that 
the earth is round, long before it is possible to demon- 
strate the fact to him. You give him the history of past 
ages as truth, without discussing the validity of the histo- 
rian's testimony : you affirm facts, simply as facts, and re- 
serve the examination of them for a future period. Why 
would you pursue a different course in relation to religion ? 
In appearing to submit to the scrutiny of the child, questions 
decidedly above his reach, you deceive him upon the ex- 
tent of his faculties: you impose upon his judgment still 
more, by inciting him to draw conclusions without suffi- 
cient knowledge ; thus manifesting your belief that he is 
equal to the task. Whatever you do, he will believe you. 
His faith, which it is your object to enlighten, remains 
blind, and it consists of nothing but faith in you. Since 
your persuasion alone influences the child, why that dis- 
play of reasoning, of which he so little appreciates the 
justice ; why not simply affirm truths which the highest 
philosophy admits ? 

Nevertheless, without giving proof upon proof, v/e may 
transmit to the soul of the child that faith which feels the 
impossibility of doubting, and which is the most common 
of all. To show him, on every hand, the effects of God's 
power, is to convince him that there is a God. The idea 
of a cause is so engrafted in our nature, that wherever the 
power of man ceases, children seize with avidity the idea 
of a Creator. The existence of an object, of a phenome- 
non, of the action whatever it may be, appears to them the 
performance of an intelligent will ; they see nothing but life, 
or the effects of it, throughout the world. Then, when the 
impossibility of tracing it to a human cause is demonstrated 
to them, they admit a super-human agent. They will ask 
you what this agent is, but will not question its existence. 
The question of the existence of God, then, needs not to be 
brought forward ; it is sufficient to speak of his attributes. 



286 THE RELIGIOUS EDUCATION OF 

A knowledge of the attributes of God, as they are dis- 
played in creation, in the heart of man, and in his history, 
constitutes the eternal object of education, and even of all 
science. From the child of three years old, who finds a 
testimony of God's goodness in the pleasure he receives 
from roses and strawberries, even to Newton who recog- 
nizes a sovereign intelligence in the arrangement of the 
universe, every mind, as Avell as all the faculties of mind, 
will find matter proportioned to its poAvers, in the study of 
the attributes of God. This study, the dimensions of 
which increase as knowledge advances, ought at first to 
be accommodated to the weakness of the child, and to be 
presented to him only as the explanation of interesting 
facts, on which we desire to fix his attention. 

The moral attributes or perfections of the Creator are not 
to the child a subject of astonishment, however far he may 
be from conceiving of their grandeur; and he sees with 
reverence various traces of them in nature. But the in- 
communicable attributes of God, his eternity and immensi- 
ty, confound his thoughts as well as ours. The habits of 
his mind render it particularly difficult to conceive of im- 
materiality. Accustomed vividly to represent to himself 
absent objects, he finds more difficulty than we do in at- 
tributing reality to a spiritual essence, and we shall better 
succeed in leading him to do it by seeking first to con- 
vince him of the immateriality of the soul. Children easi- 
ly admit that that which loves and thinks in them, is not 
their body, nor any part of it: we might believe that their 
own confused observations agree with what we teach 
them in respect to this, so promptly do they admit the idea 
of a spiritual and internal inhabitant. The necessary re- 
sult of this idea, is immortality ; and the hope that the souls 
of those who die rest in the bosom of God, and are there 
re-united, appears to be as delightful to them as to us ; 
they express it in their manner, and we see that it pre^ 



YOUNft CHILDREN. FIRST PERCEPTIONS. 287 

pares for them the most powerful consolations. The 
voice of conscience, which they have been taught to con- 
sider as the voice of God speaking within them, gives 
them the feeling of an intimate and intellectual communi- 
cation between their soul and its Creator. The idea that 
God accompanies them wherever they go, surprises them 
but little ; it is because, as I before said, they often imag- 
ine themselves followed by their mother's eye, when they 
do not see her. But they have more difficulty in con- 
ceiving the spiritual idea of the God of the universe. The 
material works of the Almighty appear to them to pro- 
ceed from a material cause ; the immense distance of pla- 
ces, where His power is exerted, at the same time caffles 
their intelligence ; and from this, results moments of error, 
which it is necessary to remedy, without attaching too 
much importance to them. 

It ought to be remembered, that with regard to the ob- 
jects of religion, we possess two faculties of opposite ef- 
fects ; imagination, which is incessantly creating forms ; 
and reason, which denies the reality of these forms. We, 
whose reason is more mature, and whose imagination less 
vivid than that of children, are but too often subject to the 
law which obliges us to represent, more or less materially, 
the various objects of worship. The vault of heaven, the 
walls of a temple, sometimes even, for want of another 
shape, the letters of a word become painted before a mind 
to which an image is necessary. But we know that noth- 
ing appertaining to these, constitutes God : our lips hesi- 
tate to pronounce words which good sense abjures; but 
our most intimate conceptions are less irreproachable 
than our language. Our language is not entirely so, so 
much do tongues, the children of the imagination, betray 
their origin. The purest terms which we employ to de- 
signate immaterial beings, such as spirit, essence, intelli- 
gence, have a corporeal root, and relate to some one of 
our sensations. 



288 THE RELIGIOUS EDUCATION OF 

There is an invincibly terrestrial element attached to all 
our conceptions here below, but we are able to fancy them 
released from this alliance. Thought sees celestial ob- 
jects through the cloud from which she cannot disengage 
herself, and conceives the idea of their purity, in spite of 
the atmosphere which surrounds them. We know that 
these veils will be withdrawn ; that all these visions, this 
troublesome assemblage of forms and figures, will disap- 
pear before immutable truth. Should we, because we are 
but human, refrain from exalting our condition as much as 
possible 1 The expectation of another existence already 
ennobles us, and our language imperfectly accords wfth 
the hymns of angels, if it offers the sincere expression of 
a sacrifice of love. 

We ought, then, to be extremely indulgent towards the 
child, for faults from which our greatest circumspection 
is not able entirely to preserve us. When a sally of youth 
escapes him, the natural effect of a lively and whimsical 
imagination, we ought gently to correct it, without offence, 
and without laughter, and, above all, without believing 
that our labor will be lost, because we see some marks of 
levity. Feeling makes its way across the inconstancy of 
infantine attention. Falling water gradually wears the 
rock ; but how many drops appear lost ! 

One of the greatest advantages of the historical instruc- 
tion of religion, is to satisfy the desire for representations 
and figures, without giving place to superstition, at least 
when we adhere to the testimony of the sacred authors. 
Another advantage is, that it will for a long time supply 
the place of dogmatic or theological instruction. The 
declaration of the principal articles of faith, is implicitly 
contained in the narrations of the two Testaments, and 
under this simple and speaking form, the most important 
truths find an access to the young mind, that it would 
be otherwise difficult to give. Even at a more advanced 



YOUNG CHILDREN FIRST PERCEPTIONS. 289 

period of education, the dry doctrines of the catechisms 
produces but little fruit, such at least as is ordinarily 
taught in schools. We are obliged to make the children 
repeat, word for word, obscure phrases, which is allied to 
nothing in their minds, and is therefore a sure means of 
discouraging them. The serious importance attached to 
errors of their memory, alarms them; and the dark clouds 
which envelope religious ideas, make them experience a 
mixture of terror and weariness, from which they are im- 
patient to be delivered. What acquired formula could 
balance in utility the effect of such an impression ! The 
more salutary the belief, and the more it makes an essen- 
tial part of the Christian faith, so much the more necessary 
is it, to associate it, together with facts, which alone are 
interesting to children. 

Very pious instructors, it is said, teach abstract dogm.as 
with success : may it not be from their piety that this sue 
cess arises, rather than from the method which they make 
use of? They influence others by the feeling which ani- 
mates them, they involuntarily transmit their fervor. 
Persuasion is often communicate J by the means we least 
think of 

This power of sympath^r, this facility with which one 
flame kindles another in the soul of the child, shows w^hat 
may be the influence of woman, and gives great dignity 
to her condition. Upon her depends the religion of future 
generations. Her prolonged influence may confirm her 
daughters in piety, and leave in the memory of her sons, 
who go far away from her, traces which time can never 
efface. It is hers to cultivate dispositions the seeds of 
which have been sown by God himself " When all that 
is sacred in the mother," says J. P. Richter, "addresses it- 
self to all that is sacred in the child, their souls understand 
and reply to each other." 

The best mode of procedure with little children, whether 
25 



290 THE RELIGIOUS EDUCATION OF 

our object be to make them love religion, or to connect it 
with moral perceptions, appears to me so well described 
in an English work, that I will take the liberty of quoting 
two pages. 

" But how, some parents will ask, shall we proceed in 
order to direct the affections of these young creatures in 
the ways of God, and duty? This appears impossible. 
Believe me, we may accomplish much, even with very 
young children, by placing gradually before their eyes 
religious truths, associated with agreeable images, if our 
manner only expresses tenderness and serenity, and we 
are animated with a spirit conformed to our design. The 
names of God and Jesus Christ ought early to be rendered 
familiar to children; and the power, holiness, and particu- 
larly, the love of these divine persons, should be so de- 
picted, and rendered so sensible by artless and simple rep- 
resentations, that the thoughts of them would sink deeply 
into their young souls. And while we thus give to the 
child the first elements of religious instruction, we inspire 
him with holy respect, and a love of heavenly things. 
But we must particularly avoid fatiguing him with long 
discourses, and also exciting his emotions too strongly. A 
little here, and a little there will be the mother's policy. 
And even for this little, she will choose moments when 
the child will lend her a willing ear, and Vv^ill suffer the 
conversation to drop, before the subject becomes wearisome 
or insipid. Nothing will more advance her object, than 
short and simple narrations from the Bible; such, for ex- 
ample, as Jesus Christ taking little children in his arms 
and blessing them, or of the same Jesus, restoring the wid- 
ow's son to life, and many others similar. If these histo- 
ries are related with a cheerful air, and animated with such 
touching simplicity as would present them vividly to the 
imagination of the child, he will rarely fail to take pleas- 
ure in them, and will ask you to repeat them again and 



YOUNG CHILDREN FIRST PERCEPTIONS. 291 

again. When once engraven in his memory, it is evident 
that we may allude to them with advantage, when we 
have occasion to reprimand or exhort the little pupil. 

"A very important point for the mother in communicating 
instruction, is always to bear in mind, that she will suc- 
ceed much better with children by exciting their sympa- 
thy, than by addressing their reason. It is doubtless ne- 
cessary, that good sense should characterize all we say ; 
but if the feelings of the child do not correspond with his 
conviction, he may be fully persuaded of certain truths, 
without their having any practical influence upon him." * 

The parables of the gospel — an admirable method of 
instruction for simple minds — happily leads also to some 
development of moral ideas; but I would not have even 
the precepts of the scripture singly presented. A duty 
imposed under an uninteresting form, produces a disa- 
greeable impression upon children. When a passage of 
the sacred writers is always used to support a prohibition, 
or an act of severity, it seems that the will of God is em- 
ployed to veil our own ; and hence, results an indifference, 
and a sort of distrust of the secret object of our lessons. 

Children are often actuated by laudable and entirely 
disinterested motives; they are, above all, sensible to the 
happiness of being approved, of being loved by their pa- 
rents, and even by God. 

But when one pays no regard to these feelings, and pre- 
sents a dry, and oftener a troublesome rule, it is immedi- 
ately necessary to have recourse to the idea of future 
punishment and reward ; and chiefly to punishment, for 
this makes the deepest impression upon the child. It 
presents itself always to his mind, clothed in those mate- 
rial images, which through our means he is but too much 

* A Practical View of Christian Education in its early stages. 



292 THE RELIGIOUS EDUCATION OF 

in the way of forming, while we present to his hopes but 
spiritual rewards, at which it is not in his nature to re- 
joice. Fear therefore, predominates in this kind of im- 
pressions, and this is the feeling most injurious to youth. 
There is true barbarity in destroying the security of in- 
fant minds, and it is plainly against the divine will to do 
it. In order to indemnify the child for his want of 
strength, Heaven has endowed him with a confiding spirit: 
to show him any other deity than the good and paternal 
God, is at the same time a lie and a blasphemy ; it is even 
an act of dark and revolting paganism; for how shall we 
designate a divinity, who, under a sacred name, is used as 
a bugbear to frighten children. 

The idea of God cannot indeed, be separated from his 
attribute of justice; we should therefore falsify in another 
sense this august idea, if we did not sometimes present him 
under a severe aspect to children. God's abhorrence to 
evil, and his anger when his law is outraged, are the 
necessary consequences of his most beneficent attributes. 
There is, at the same time, a sort of fear in the child, ne- 
cessarily accompanying the persuasion that an immense 
power is exerted to maintain order in the universe, and to 
make its laws respected ; but such a fear is absorbed in 
the predominant idea of the goodness of God, of the pro- 
tection which his most rigorous justice assures to the fee- 
ble. He is the father of little children ; he keeps, he takes 
care of those who are good; he hears them when they 
pray, and aids them in obeying him. If they even com- 
mit one fault involuntarily, he pardons it when they re- 
pent. God undoubtedly detests evil, and cannot look with 
complacency upon the wicked; but he loves his creatures, 
he opens his arms to them as soon as with sincere contri- 
tion they have shut out evil desires from the heart. Je- 
sus Christ has interceded, he was sacrificed for men; by 
invoking this sacred name with love, the guilty is par- 



YOUNG CHILDREN FIRST PERCEPTIONS. 293 

doned, and even restored to favor. There are no longer 
any traces of his sin. 

Such is the entirely evangelical doctrine, of which we 
may give a slight outline to the child. The thought of 
the Almighty power, of a pure and holy God, of his love 
which is proportioned to the efforts of the child to obey 
him; this thought, I say, will by degrees form his mo- 
rality. The influence of the mild and tender sentiments 
of piety is naturally more salutary, and at the same time 
more constant than is that of the sentiments of fear ; since, 
owing to the lightness of youth, it is very easy to escape 
from the idea of a God whom we never see, and who does 
not punish instantaneously. 

With regard to a union so important and desirable as 
religion and morality in education, it seems to me very 
essential to be ourselves well acquainted with the point in 
question. Doubtless the only proof of the progress, I will 
say of the existence even of religion in the heart, is drawn 
from the power which it exerts over the conduct. The 
moral point of view is the one to which it is always ne- 
cessary to recur, because from this alone we judge of the 
sincerity and good direction of religious ideas. But it is 
nevertheless essential to place eternal interests in the fore- 
ground, to make the accomplishment of our duties here 
below considered as the necessary condition of our union 
with God in another life. If this order is inverted, and 
our object is this life alone — if to this end we live wisely 
and in an honorable manner, we take from religion all 
its force and virtue. When we use it as the only means, 
the consequence is that the means fail. The essence of 
religion consists in the love of God ; its interests are eter- 
nal, inspire such a sentiment, therefore, if you wish reli- 
gion to serve as the foundation for morality; let the Al- 
mighty be considered as the author of all good, as the 
dispenser of all joy, before you represent him as the judge, 
25* 



294 RELIGIOUS EDUCATION OF CHILDREN, 

or the severe censor. Why, to produce piety, should we 
take measures that we would not to excite an earthly af- 
fection? The mother has for a long time caressed her 
new-born child, before she corrects him; she is for a long 
time careful to manifest an amiable and affectionate spirit, 
that the remembrance of her tenderness may at a future 
day, temper the effect of her severity. God himself acts 
thus with a little child, and manifests himself by benefits, 
before addressing him in the stern voice of conscience. It 
is injustice to the Most High, if we may so speak, to pre- 
sent Him to the child under an aspect that he would not 
choose, and which we would not choose for ourselves. 
An excessive eagerness to reap the fruits of piety, often 
prevents us from cultivating its root, which is the love of 
God. 



( 295 ) 



CHAPTER IX. 



RELIGIOUS WORSHIP. 



" The spirit of God, which dwells with the pure in heart, will in- 
spire the little child with language to address him." — Fenelon. 

If, during the whole course of religious education, the 
desire of rendering homage to God does not increase in 
proportion as instruction is unfolded, a knowledge of the 
most elevated truths remains unfruitful in the heart. All 
nature, and the Gospel, tell us of a Creator, hut it is by 
means of worship alone, that our soul enters into commu- 
nion with Him. Without worship we remain strangers 
to God, indifferent to his perfections, indifferent whether, 
even in a feeble degree, his image is produced in us. It 
is by worship, principally, that religion, vital, active, 
and fruitful in good works, takes possession of the indi- 
vidual. 

The worship of the heart is doubtless the first of all. 
A homage involuntarily offered, doubtless has more ear- 
nestness and a sincerity more indubitable, than a homage 
provoked by example, supported by habit, and directed by 
customary forms; — but how shall we lead the child to this 
pure adoration? How excite at first, and renew after- 
wards, the pious transports which elevate the soul even to 
God, without any external impulse ? Where shall we 



296 RELIGIOUS WORSHIP. 

procure the heavenly flame, that we may communicate it 
constantly, and keep the lamp always burning 1 

The object we aim at, is the spontaneous worship of the 
soul, the adoration of a spiritual God in spirit and in 
truth; but this object we know not how to attain at once: 
care, and a judicious choice of means is necessary in order 
to arrive at it. What does education present, that we can 
obtain in any other way ? 

The most natural means, and those best fitted to the 
proposed object, will be for the mother to make a free and 
rapid communication of her own impressions. Let her 
feel vividly the benefits of God, and the child will feel 
them likewise. If, when he receives an unexpected pleas- 
ure, you return thanks to God for him, he will soon unite 
his homage with yours. " O my God ! I thank thee that 
thou hast made such a person so good to me," is the little 
tribute of gratitude which Miss Hamilton advised should 
be suggested to the child, as soon as he becomes the ob- 
ject of an unhoped for favor. God, who holds in his hand 
the hearts of all men -—God who clothes the lilies of the 
field, and is not unmindful even of the little birds — God 
who is the immediate author of all that we admire in na- 
ture, and the dispenser of these brilliant faculties by which 
frail humanity has produced so many miracles of art. 
Here is the subject of a thousand dialogues, the deep 
which may cover a thousand interesting forms: here is 
the aliment which may be proportioned to every degree of 
feeling as well as intelligence in the pupil, and provide for 
their greatest development. 

But the most regular means will always be the most 
certain. It should therefore consist of private worship, 
such as comports with the age of the child, of exercises of 
piety daily continued, and always suited to his growing 
capacity. Regularity is necessary to all of us : it is only 
by means of time that we can influence the soul : we 



RELIGIOUS WORSHIP. 297 

must devote it to the accomplishment of all our desires. 
And since time, which among the Creator's gifts we have 
most at our disposal, acts upon the one we may least dis- 
pose of — the affections — is it not very happy that by its 
assistance we may obtain an influence over our involun- 
tary emotions ? And when feelings of piety, those faith- 
ful guardians of our heart, and therefore of our conduct, 
are the question, — how can we, when we would prove 
them, trust to those momentary impressions which are 
continually deceiving us? — how can we omit having re- 
course to that particular appropriation of certain hours to 
worship, which has been found useful on so many occa- 
sions. 

If it is true that we cannot depend upon ourselves, how 
much less can we depend upon the child ! More 
changeable, more volatile than we are, he is less accus- 
tomed to occupy himself with objects purely intellectual. 
Morally feeble, without even perceiving what is necessary 
to him, he ought to learn to desire it. It is necessary 
that there should be rooted in the constitution, if I may 
use the expression, a desire to grow in spiritual things, to 
receive every day from God, strength in the inner man. 
To this effect everything of inferior order — habits, modes, 
example should be presented as the necessary instruments 
of that most elevated work of education, the formation of a 
religious will, and that consecration of the whole life, 
which is the result of it. 

The same sacred books which furnish an occasion of 
instruction in religious education, are found to be a great 
aid in worship ; that is to say, a powerful means of ele- 
vating the soul to God. The Scriptures have a peculiar 
language, energetic and significant, which produces an 
unparalleled effect upon those who possess its spirit, which 
eflfect is a matter of surprise to those who do not thus feel 
it. Children who are endowed with such a wonderful 



298 RELIGIOUS WORSHIP. 

instinct in every thing that appertains to the expression of 
thought, quickly feel its force and beauty. Select passa- 
ges of the bible, read in the bible itself, and not from any 
abridgment or extract book, inspire them with respect, 
mingled with great interest. The majesty and oriental 
brilliancy of the imagery, in the Old Testament, captivate 
their imagination ; the plainness and simplicity of the 
parables in the New, soften their hearts. But the Psalms, 
above all, open to them an abundant source of consolation 
and love. They draw thence a feeling for the beauties of 
Creation, and learn the harmonious concord between re- 
ligion and nature. The youngest children repeat these 
with true delight, and never hear them, without pleasure 

in after life. * 

It is desirable that little religious canticles, more par- 
ticularly adapted to infancy, should be composed after these 
perfect models. In the modern schools, called infant 
schools, as well as in many English families, children 
sing in concerts, hymns which produce the most melting 
effect. They all seem penetrated with the feelings express- 



* The force of these earliest impressions, is the reason that we 
have not succeeded in adopting for our church music translations 
superior in poetical merit to the feeble version of the Psalms, by 
Clement Marot. The words which we have heard in infancy, 
always act more powerfully upon the heart. It is for the reason 
that the author gives, for retaining in France an old version of the 
Psalms, that we are sorry to see any new translation of the Scrip- 
tures. The words and the phraseology, to which from infancy we 
have listened with reverence, become hallowed in our minds, 
along with the ideas they convey. We would not like to see an 
aged and venerable friend dressed in the newest fashion; much less 
do we desire to see the Holy Scriptures altered in their dress to 
correspond to the current language of the day. They have de- 
scended to us from antiquity, let us hand them down to our pos- 
terity unchanged and unadulterated.— [Ed.] 



RELIGIOUS WORSHIP. 299 

ed, and the youngest among them delight to join their 
feeble voices with their elders. 

Why, when the object is so good, and the means so in 
nocent, should we refuse to employ the magical aid of 
harmony? The music of song particularly, produces on 
him who executes it a singularly powerful and character- 
istic impression; he pronounces as if by inspiration, the 
words associated with it, and it seems that he who sings, 
breathes out his own emotion — a dangerous property of 
this art, when we consider the sentiments which they 
ordinarily convey, and there is therefore more reason that, 
in education, we should recall them to their ancient and 
sacred design. 

Even when there is but one child to educate, we may 
still call music to aid our worship. The mother when 
addressing her first born, may already in her songs, pro- 
claim the blessings of Deity. "How," says J. P. Richter, 
"shall we impart gentleness to the young spirit in any 
more effectual way, than by means of that voice of song 
which issues from the soul; that voice already loved by 
the child, when it spoke but in simple words, and now 
appears suddenly clothed with brightness, and as if come 
from the heavenly glory?" 

This however is a mere accessory. The most impor- 
tant act of worship, that which constitutes its very essence, 
is prayer. The idea of prayer, at once so grand and sim- 
ple, is allied to all our relations with Deity. The simple 
contemplation of the Divinity almost supposes prayer, 
since associated with it is an invincible desire to draw 
from the immense source of strength, of holiness, and 
happiness. It is in our nature to pray: prayer is the sigh 
of the captive soul, an anticipation of its deliverance, a 
presentiment of eternity. In every degree of civilization 
man prays. The savage, who is a stranger to the bene- 
fits of revelation, prays; and the Christian, who is perfected 



300 RELIGIOUS WORSHIP- 

in faith, prays also. All that we can conceive of the con- 
dition of heavenly intelligences, is prayer: we believe the 
angels pray, and we know that Jesus Christ when on 
earth prayed unceasingly. The necessity of pra5'er has 
appeared so inherent even in the most sublime essence, 
that there is a passage in the Talmud where it is said, that 
"God himself prays" — an extravagant thought unques- 
tionably — but in harmony with some secret cord of our 
heart, of that eager and suffering heart, which cannot think 
of perfection without a transport and an aspiration to- 
wards a superior state of being. 

This act of invocation, so natural in itself, is so much 
the more agreeable to the little child, because he passes 
his life in asking. Our language in addressing God is 
almost all borrowed from his, — so do his relations with 
us offer an image, imperfect, it is true, but nevertheless 
striking, of ours with the Divinity. In all his troubles 
he cries, "my father," and we call upon "our father" also. 
He will feel that he ought to pray, as soon as the smallest 
ray from on high penetrates his soul. 

With respect to prayer, as well as the whole of worship, 
the regular observance of it is the course which conducts 
to its spontaneous and involuntary offering. I think we 
ought to endeavor, then, each day to elevate the soul of the 
child towards its author, without even awaiting the moment 
when instruction, properly speaking, commences. The 
name of God is never entirely unknown to the child; he 
has heard this sacred name pronounced with respect and 
love, before he has attached any distinct idea to it, and 
therefore, when it is awakened in its grandeur, it finds his 
heart prepared. If you perceive that such an impression 
is produced, gradually nourish and strengthen it by keep- 
ing it gentle and serene : and if you have children of a 
more advanced age, who already enter with solemnity 
into the benefit of prayer, at the close of this holy exer- 



RELIGIOUS WORSHIP. 301 

cise, go and seek your youngest-born, take him in your 
arms, join his little hands together, and in a brief and nat- 
ural manner, implore the blessing of the Most High upon 
his brothers and sisters, and himself This worship 
ought not to last but an instant ; but this instant is sufficient 
to bring forward a tender germ, and each day will lead 
to a new development. 

Even when you have no other children, you may asso- 
ciate your son with you in prayer, while he is yet very 
young. Teach him to say — ' Oh my God, I love thee, 
because thou art so good ; I pray thee to love me also ! ' 
If these simple words are only accompanied with feeling 
on your part, the child will understand their meaning ; 
they will at least excite in him a tender affection, and this 
is all we can desire. He will undoubtedly ask you if 
you see the good God ; you will tell him no, but that He 
sees you, that he hears and knows all things, and that he 
loves good children. 

It may be seen that practically I place agreeable in- 
struction and worship in the fore-ground. But if it is 
necessary that one precede the other, (I may be pardoned 
for thinking thus,) I would commence with worship. 
When we speak of terrestrial objects, it is necessary to 
know, in order to love them ; but when the question is of 
God, it is only by adoring that we can comprehend him ; 
and love produces intelligence. This appears singular, 
but 'prayer is a supernatural work,'* and may be accom- 
plished by unusual means. That great genius, who was 
born in the bosom of paganism says, ' The soul better 
comprehends divine truths in the flight of a holy inspira- 
tion, than when guided by cold and circumspect reflection. 
And let us not pretend that this has nothing to do with 



* Leighton's Expository Works. 
26 



302 RELIGIOUS WORSHIP- 

children. They also have their extacies, iheir sudden 
illuminations, which are sometimes the more striking 
from being contrasted with the habitual obscurity of their 
impresssions. 

I believe a sensible and forward child, when nearly 
three years old, may admit the first dawning of religion 
into his soul, and consequently become capable of wor- 
ship. I know we may retard this moment. There are 
very intelligent mothers, who do not begin to make their 
children pray, until after they have attained their seventh 
year. When piety has been inspired in any other way ; 
when the feelings are already such, that the anticipation 
of prayer holds as distinct a place in the spirit as tne act 
itself, — this delay may have the advantage of reserving the 
novelty, and consequently a stronger impression of prayer, 
for the age when less docile children are more disposed 
to avoid us. But when this is not the case, I would never 
advise to sacrifice the assured effect of habit, for a ceitain 
economy in the employment of means, which v/e cannot 
always have the disposal of It is risking much to de- 
pend, for a difficult age, upon a resource which this very 
age will render less easy to employ. 

Without speaking of the principal benefit of prayer — 
the grace which it obtains from Heaven — this worship, 
directed by an intelligent mother, becomes the most use- 
ful instrument in forming the character of a child. Noth- 
ino- more directly influences his mind with respect to re- 
lio-ion, than the aid which we solicit upon this very point. 
To ask that we may love God more and more, is the 
surest means of becoming affected with his love; to im- 
plore the gift of a tender piety, active and tolerant towards 
men, is to conceive a just idea of what such a feeling ought 
to be. Care should be taken that the child do not recite 
vain forms mechanically; and that eA^ery word he pro- 
nounces should come from his heart. It is the same 



RELIGIOUS WORSHIP. 303 

with respect to morality. If the mother makes her child 
repeat after her, sentence by sentence, little simple prayers 
that she will vary according to the occasion, she will 
thereby have a sweet means of communicating- to the 
child, all the feelings she desires should animate him. 
Gratitude towards those who take care of him, sweetness, 
docility, zeal to fulfil his little duties, in a word, the best 
dispositions of childhood may be promoted by means of 
v/orship.* 

In order to recall the wandering mind of the child, 
and to render present to his thoughts the great objects of 
religion, the mother may commence for herself a more 
solemn invocation than I dare presume to dictate. I 
therefore borrow the following from one of the best reli- 
gious writers of our church, M. Cellerier. 



* The remembrance of the unaffected and fervent piety of a little 
motherless child, who was at six years of age, much with us, is 
fresh in our recollection. It was pleasant to go, at her hour of bed 
time, and witness the serenity of her mind when offering up her 
simple petitions. With a voice soft and sweet, as we might imag- 
ine that of a seraph, she called upon ' Our Father, which art in 
heaven ' — her heart seemed to expand with more than usual con- 
fidence towards her friends at this period, and she seemed delighted 
to talk with them about God and heaven, and to ask questions 
upon religious subjects. One evening, she was more than usually 
confidential, and for the first time almost in her life, remarked upon 
the faults of another. She spoke of one of her little companions 
who had told a lie. She thought she must be afraid to pray to God, 
because she had been wicked ; ' but, Aunt,' said she, in tones of per- 
fect humility and innocence, ' I don't do wicked things.' This was 
not boasting, but the testimony of a clear conscience ; and although 
when she was older, Mary Treat was deeply sensible of the fallen 
nature of which she partook, and of her need of regenerating grace, 
yeiwhen in the bloom of life she was called to lie down upon a bed 
of death, she evinced all the serenity and confidence in God which 
had marked her childhood, and her conscience bore witness that she 
had not done wicked things. [Ed.] 



304 RELIGIOUS WORSHIP. 

* Lord, our God and our father, we prostrate ourselves 
before thee to invoke thee. May thy Holy Spirit dispose 
us to pray to Thee with sincerity and fervor ; and may 
the adorable name of Jesus Christ, the Saviour of men, 
ascend to thy throne, and obtain thy blessing upon us.'* 

But concerning the child, in order that what I have in 
view may be fairly understood, I subjoin some little pray- 
ers which he will easily be able to comprehend, at the 
age of three years. I have laid aside doctrinal instruc- 
tion, in order to express the feelings which he may really 
experience. One may readily compose those, which are 
better and more complete ; since, conformably to the spirit 
of childhood, I have done little more than offer one peti- 
tion at a time ; but I ought to say, however, that the trial 
of them, has produced good effects. 

O my God, my God ! how many blessings thou hast 
bestowed on me, how many pleasures thou hast given me ! 
Thou hast given me kind parents, brothers and sisters to 
play with me, and nurses to take care of me. Thou hast 
given me a great many things which make me happy. 
Continue all these blessings to me, O my God : I ask it in 
the name of Jesus Christ, thy Son. 



* The following as near as we can recollect, are the words of a 
child of seven years old. ' O God, I thank thee for giving me so 
many good things in this world, and for the Bible, which tells about 
the Saviour, who loves little children, and died to save their souls. 
Wilt thou make me a good child, that I may love thee and Jesus 
Christ the Saviour, and be obedient to my mother, and kind to my 
sister. Forgive me for having been idle and bad tempered: Oh 
God, bless my dear mother and grandmother, my aunt, and my sis- 
ter; and grant that I may be a comfort to my friends and a pious 
child, so that I may be prepared, when I die, to go to thee, and to 
my dear friends who are now in heaven. Grant this for Jesus 
Christ's sake.' [Ed.] 



RELIGIOUS WORSHIP. 305 

O my God ! who dost take care of me, and hast mercy 
upon me! thou knowest that I am but a little child, and 
very weak ; that I can neither clothe or feed myself; and 
that if left to myself, I should bs very helpless : but every 
body cares for me, every body loves me. It is thou, my 
God, who hast made ethers so good to me: reward them, 
oh my God, and make me grateful and good. I ask it in 
the name of Jesus Christ, thy Son. 

O my God ! thy well-beloved Son, Jesus Christ, has 
said', ' Suffer the little children to come unto me.' My 
God, I am a little child, and I come to thee. Come to 
me also, oh my God. Keep me from forgetting that Thou 
seest me ; then I shall always feel that Thou lovest, and 
takest care of me, and that when I die thou wilt receive 
me to thine arms. I ask it in the name of Jesus Christ, 
thy Son.* 

My God, my God ! when I am very good and my 
parents are satisfied with me, I fesl then as if I dared to 
pray to thee. But, alas ! to-day I have been perverse and 
disobedient, and I am ashamed to approach thee. I con- 
jure thee, notwithstanding, oh my God, that thou wilt 
not cease to love me ! I am always so unhappy after my 
faults ! Our good Saviour has obtained pardon for those 
who repent. I repent, oh my God : pardon me for his 
sake ! 



* We cannot too early associate sweet and religious feelings with 
the idea of death. Children of five and six years old, have mani- 
fested the greatest consolation in suffering, in the hopes of Chris- 
tianity, and in their last hour have felt the approaches of death 
without fear. See a notice on the school of Spitalfields by M. Wil- 
derspinn. p. 54. 
26* 



306 RELIGIOUS WORSHIP. 

Hear me, oh my God ! Thou seest that I am but a lit- 
tle child, but they tell me I have been much smaller ; that 
I could neither sit, walk, or run, as I do now. I pray 
thee, oh my God, who hast been so good to me, be equal- 
ly good to all the poor little children, who are as helpless 
as I was, and who are not so well taken care of. Com- 
fort, oh my God, all who suffer : I ask it in the name of 
Jesus Christ, thy Son. 

Oh my God, I wish to obey thee, but I am always com- 
mitting some fault. I see that if thou dost not help me, 
I shall never be good. Help me, then, to keep thy com- 
mandments, oh my God ! to love thee with all my heart 
and mind, and to love my neighbor as myself I ask this, 
oh my God, in the name of Jesus Christ, thy* Son. 

Lord, thou hast commanded us to pray for each other. 
First, then, I pray for my parents, for my countrymen, 
and also for those who are not my countrymen. I pray 
thee, oh my God, for those who know thee, and for those 
also who know thee not, that they may learn to know 
and love thee. I pray also, oh my God, for all the 
world.* I invoke thee in the name of Jesus Christ, thy 
Son. 

Prayer for Sunday. 

Oh my God, to-day is Sunday, when every body goes 
to church, to pray to thee. I am too little to go there ; but 



* This prayer is perhaps not very natural ; for a child left to 
'himself, would not think of offering supplications for those who are 
unknown to him ; but I wish to show how the mother may make 
use of worship, to inspire the child with various good feelings; and, 
there are few more necessary to associate with the idea of religion 
than toleration. 



RELIGIOUS WORSHIP. , 307 

I may adore thee also, oh my God ! When I go into the 
country, I see the bright sun which thou hast made, and 
the beautiful earth where there are so many charming 
flowers, and pretty birds, and good fruits. I thank thee 
for all these things ; and when I have grown large, I will 
also go into thy temple, and sing thy praises, and read 
thy holy word ; and all my life I will love and endeavor 
to obey thee. I ask this, &c. 

I will here subjoin two prayers that will serve to give 
the child an idea of the offerings he may present to God 
at the beginning and end of the day, when he chances to 
be left alone. 



Morning Prayer. 

Oh Lord, I thank thee that thou hast taken care of me 
during the night : take care of me also, I pray thee, dur- 
ing the day. I will try to remember that thou art always 
near me, and then I shall not be afraid of any thing, but 
offending thee. Bless, oh my God, my parents, and all 
that I love. I ask this, &c. 



Kvening Prayer. 

Oh my God, I will not sleep without having asked thy 
blessing. Thou hast been very kind to me to-day, al- 
though I have committed many faults. Pardon them, oh 
Lord ! I will try to be better to-morrow. I shall go to 
sleep now, thinking that thou watchest over me during 
my slumbers. In the name of thy Son, I pray to thee. 

Most of these prayers are vague, but the child ought to 
be encouraged to present such as are more minute. If 
he expresses the desires of his heart, his offerings, with- 



308 RELIGIOUS WORSHIP. 

out doubt, will be very puerile ; but of what consequence 
is it ? Are there many earthly prayers that are not? Let 
us rejoice that he speaks to God from his inmost soul, 
without intrudins: too much into his little secrets. Tell 
him, notwithstanding, that our wishes are very often rash, 
and that in expressing them, we should submit them to 
His will who desires our happiness. Advise him to ask 
the Lord not to listen, if the accomplishment of his desires 
would lead to fatal consequences. We shall thereby ac- 
custom him to support privations with sweetness; we shall 
prepare him to meet disappointments and misfortunes with 
that resignation animated by hope, which is called confi- 
dence in God. 

Whatever liberty we may allow the child in his more 
secret devotions, there is, nevertheless, one prayer that I 
would make him learn by heart, as soon as he shall have 
acquired any habit of calling upon God. This is the 
Lord's Prayer. It may be his faithful companion from 
the cradle to the grave. Its comprehensive meaning is 
constantly unfolding, and becoming more beautiful and 
sublime as we advance in age. 



( 309 ) 



BOOK III — Resumed. 



FACTS RELATIVE TO THE STUDY OF THE SOUL IN 

INFANCY. 

Having reached the pericd at which the child, by its 
continual progression, will at length complete his moral 
existence ; and at which a new career opens upon the ob- 
server, I will take a hasty survey of what I have already 
written. In future, it will become more and more diffi- 
cult to analyze the feelings and impressions of the pupil. 
Every thing relating to him will be complicated and ob- 
scure ; education and example will have their influence ; 
natural impulses will be often repressed by the power of 
reflection, and secret niotives notwithstanding remain in 
a degree the same. It is important, then, that we early 
observe the dispositions which are destined to be weak- 
ened, without ceasing to exist in the soul. 

I will not stop to retrace the moral consequences which 
clearly flow from observed facts, but will resume the his- 
tory of the child from its birth, and although the state of 
the soul at this era is but little known, I will expose the 
ideas which I think it is impossible to prevent being 
formed, whether they are owing to observation, or are the 
result of preconceived notions. 



310 FACTS RELATIVE TO THE STUDY 

The soul, a pure * intelligence, comes into this world 
to which it is a stranger, and finds itself united to a por- 
tion of matter, equally strange, called body. Susceptible 
of infinite development, and endowed with the disposi- 
tions necessary to enter into relation with the moral and 
physical world, it seems destined not to display its activ- 
ity, except when tne impressions it receives through the 
medium of the body, call its faculties into play, and furnish 
materials for their exercise. But as impressions excited 
by the senses, are not of a nature to establish all the rela- 
tions which the soul is called to support, it has need of 
another resource. Consequently, to aid it when it enters 
upon its career, an assistance has been prepared, which 
we call supernatural ; if an effect of which we cannot 
state the cause, may be thus designated. This assistance 
which we may call instinct, is not profusely lavished. It 
is always given upon indispen -able occasions, but not 
when, having in time acquired knowledge from the les- 
sons of experience, the soul can do without it. 

Thus, in the period soon after its birth, the soul does 
not display its attributes. The wondrous machine which 
encloses it, is useless to him, because he knows not how 
to employ it. An admirable organization seems to have 
been calculated in vain to produce these two different ef- 
fects, that of informing the soul of what passes outwardly, 
and that of executing its orders; the soul does not com- 
prehend what is announced by the body, and has not yet 
acquired the power to direct it. Enslaved in his double 
ignorance, he can only become acquainted with external 
objects, by exercising the organs of the sense ; and the 
properties of these organs can only be revealed by exter- 
nal objects. 

* The soul. 



OF THE SOUL IN INFANCY. 311 

The concurrence of the will is not however necessary, 
in order that the soul should receive impressions. It feels 
pain and pleasure, but the mind remains passive. With 
the child, everything is vague and confused; nothing pos- 
sesses reality or consistence. The forms which pass and 
repass before his eyes, are but as fugitive shadows. The 
various noises which he hears, the shocks which he may 
receive from solid bodies, are as yet but unconnected events 
to him ; he experiences changes which he seeks not to 
explain. In this state, hunger would be a suffering with 
which no idea of alleviation could be associated, and the 
new-born child would die of inanition, without knowing 
that he wants food, if Heaven had not provided for the 
preservation of his existence. Here instinct is needed, 
and instinct has been given. The child seeks, and seizes 
the maternal bosom ; and is quieted, and strengthened. 

In the mean time a constant repetition of the same im- 
pressions call the faculties of the soul into exercise. Sen- 
sations become connected in the mind, and the memory 
re-produces them, in the order they were in reality pre- 
sented. Thus I have seen a child of twelve days old, 
who could not certainly at this age discriminate between 
objects, show by indubitable signs that he comprehended 
when he was to receive the breast. He then recollected, 
he hoped ; two great faculties, memory and imagination 
were excited. The intellectual being was revealed. 

The development of the understanding is not apparent- 
ly much retarded in infancy by the weakness of the body 
since this weakness only affects such members as perform 
the will of the soul, and the soul in the commencement of 
its existence, possesses not the power of volition. On the 
other hand, the organs of sense, whose vocation it is sim- 
ply to inform the soul, fulfil their office almost from birth: 
thus the ear and the eye are always bringing in reports, 
little comprehended at first, it is true, but nevertheless per- 



312 FACTS RELATIVE TO THE STUDY 

fectly faithful. The progress of the moral and physical 
faculties seem, then, so to have been combined, that in pro- 
portion as the soul is in a state to command, she finds in 
the body an adroit and docile servant. 

When once the child is enabled to combine the testimo- 
ny of its various senses, his ideas acquire fixedness; the 
external world always appears to him under more distinct 
forms ; he fancies himself surrounded by real objects, 
and begins to awaken as if from a dream, where every 
thing was confused and changing. 

The soul, however, that spiritual essence, is not merely 
called to enter into relation with the material world, but 
its noblest faculties demand another exercise. Another 
order of phenomena then hastens to manifest itself in the 
new-born infant, which is clearly distinct from the order 
of sensible ideas. It is astonishing to see how little know- 
ledge is necessary in order to effect the development of 
the moral sense. Before the child is able to use his 
hands, and, by taking hold of the things which he sees, 
is convinced of the reality of their existence, an object 
comes forth from the cloud which wraps the universe, and 
awakens his tender feelings. This object is an expressive 
countenance, a face that smiles upon the child. At this 
novel appearance his soul is impelled towards another 
soul; he has recognized its image,- when he hadbeforedis- 
linguished nothing. Thus sympathy becomes manifest, 
that astonishing instinct, that wonderful devotion, which 
independent of experience, initiates the earliest age in 
those mysteries of the heart, which the most mature age 
cannot comprehend. 

The feeling of expectation which usually produces in 
the child a regular succession of sensations, proves that 
he has a confused idea of the constancy of the laws which 
govern nature. A first event .announces a second, and 
although it is his imagination only which is in play, his 



OF THE SOUL IN INFANCY. 313 

present foresig-ht comprehends the source of iliture rea- 
son. The new- born babe soon perceives that he exerts a 
power over himself, in his cries, for example, which, al- 
though at first involuntary, he now prolongs or suspends 
at pleasure ; and when he perceives that by moving his 
little members, he communicates motion to other objects, 
he feels himself to be a cause ; and the great idea of cause 
becomes insensibly developed in his mind. At first con- 
ceived in the physical economy, this idea is soon trans- 
ferred to the moral world. As spon as the child under- 
stands that he can act upon his species, he uses them as 
instruments ; he persuades, he directs those who carry 
him, and his will, although impotent in himself, animates 
beings stronger than he. From- that time, undefinable 
communications exist between him and his protectors. 
~ While he has yet no means of communing with us by 
word, he takes advantage of an intelligence of sympathy, 
which soon creates a peculiar language. And when 
genuine tenderness is joined to this instinct of the heart, 
an exchange of feelings is established between the child 
and ourselves, which, from their fervor and continual 
change, often prove too strong for his frail constitution. 

In the mean time, the strength of the child is increasing", 
and gives more salutary exercise to his faculties ; more 
to be depended upon, and more manageable, they enable 
him to perform experiments which are always sources of 
pleasure to him. A propensity to imitation, which pro- 
ceeds from sympathy, and the love of action suggest to 
him a thousand attempts, and various circumstances lead 
to new improvements. From this period, most of the in- 
clinations of the human soul are successively put into 
motion. We see a child of a year old, by turns manifest- 
ing selflove, pride, vexation, shame, rancor, and often 
generosity, and pity A stranger to all coherent thoughts, 
he is moved by the same desires, tastes, predilections, and 
27 



314 FACTS RELATIVE TO THE STtTDY 

anticipations which influence us, and which are falsely at- 
tributed to reason. 

But the greatest object of interest to the observer, is to 
see traits formed which characterize the human species, 
and assign to it a separate rank in creation. Notwith- 
standing the proofs of knowledge which we attribute to 
the new-born infant, he is inferior to all animals of the 
same age, in a most important point j and that is, the 
power of watching over his own safety. The education 
of the organs of sense, although much slower in him, ap- 
pears to us more rational, it is true : that is to say, that 
we can better explain it by the regular succession of cau- 
ses and effects. Whether the shorter life of animals does 
not leave sufficient space for the long lessons of experi- 
ence ; or, whether an inferior intelligence requires more 
direct aid, — it is certain that the wonders of instinct are 
from infancy more numerous and striking in animals, than 
in man. But through the abasement of the human crea- 
ture at his entrance into life, it is curious to see the signs 
which are precursors of his futur.e elevation. 

One of these indications of superiority, is the lively and 
agreeable impression produced on the soul of the child, 
by objects which are entirely foreign to the instinct of 
preservation, and corporeal enjoyments — those incite- 
ments to beings less richly endowed. From the age of 
six or seven months, he shows himself capable of admira- 
tion ; and brilliancy of colors, as well as harmony of 
sounds, cause him transports of joy. Source of the arts, 
the pure sentiment of beauty is accorded to the feeble child 
who has no idea of utility ; and curiosity, the first germ 
of a love of science, is soon displayed in him. These two 
noble inclinations have thus a disinterested origin, which 
we too often permit them to contradict. 

Scarcely has the second year commenced, than another 
prerogative of the human species offers itself to our view. 



OT THE SOUL IN INFANCY. 315 

At the appearance of striking objects, the child pronounc- 
es the name he has heard given to them, and his design 
in this novel exercise seems at first to be only his pleas- 
ure. But when he has once discovered the use of lan- 
guage ; when he has ascertained that these words, which 
he loves to pronounce, are a means of making himself 
obeyed, all his faculties are exerted to acquire the pos- 
session of this means. His progress in the art of speak- 
ing now becomes astonishing; its rapidity would even be 
inexplicable, if, in respect to it, the child was not endowed 
with faculties faj superior to adults, as Al. Itard, a skil- 
ful physician, has demonstrated. To study the process 
by which he begins to make use of the various parts of 
language, is calculated to throw light upon the progress 
of his intellectual development. 

But whatever sagacity the child displays in the course 
of this apprenticeship, we must not be led into error upon 
the nature of his mind. It has been believed, because he 
makes use of the plural number, and designates animals 
and fruits by the names of the species, that he must neces- 
sarily conceive abstract ideas ; an opinion which I cannot 
adopt. The names of species, as well as other gen- 
eral terms, are not, it appears to me, in him the expression 
of an abstract idea already -conceived. In order that the 
child may attach an abstract meaning to these terms, it is 
necessary that he should be able to separate ideas, so that 
he may discover in one object the qualities, which permit 
it to be classed with others similar to it. Now this retro- 
grade movement is the effect of a voluntary operation of 
the mind, of which the child, at two or three years old, 
has no knowledge. If he is not absolutely incapable of 
it, he has at least few motives to incite him to this labor 
of the mind, and he remains a stranger to reflection. 

Without seeking to explain anew, how the child is led 
%Q make use of abstract terms, I will say that we are con^ 



316 FACTS RELATIVE TO THE STUDY 

stantly liable to be deceived by supposing, that every thing 
passes in the minds of children, in the same manner that 
it does in ours. What in us is a train of thought, is in 
them but the anticipation of a succession of impressions. 
Their imagination transports into the future certain sen- 
sations, which they are already acquainted with, and they 
judge that such and such objects will procure to them 
greater or more prolonged pleasure than certain others. 
If they give to these anticipations an appearance of ra- 
tionality, it is because the employment of our forms of 
speech costs them nothing ; and because with their aston- 
ishing facility to imitate us, they can express, in general 
terms, the particular idea, which occupies them. 

Apparently, then, the little child forms a judgment, 
which is the result of a rapidly made comparison ; but he 
is not yet capable of reasoning — an operation of the mind 
which compares former judgments, and draws a general 
conclusion from them. He wants at the same time not 
only materials for reasoning, that is to say, facts already 
judged, stored up in his memory, but motives sufficiently 
pressing to employ the few materials he has collected. 
Necessity obliges the man to propose to himself precise 
designs, and therefore he must reason, in order to accom- 
plish them ; but as the same necessity does not exist for 
the child, who makes no provision for his own wants, he 
has no decided aim to which he attaches any importance. 
The passing designs which the child forms, are only oc- 
casions 10 exert his strength. His desire is to act, not to 
obtain the result of his activity. His wants of imagina- 
tion, which are uncertain and variable as their source, 
call his faculties into exercise, without demanding great 
efforts of attention. 

If the imagination reign sovereign in infancy, it is be- 
cause it cannot be otherwise. Previous to the time when 
the child begins to speak, his soul is not inactive ; he is 



OF THE SOUL IN INFANCY. 317 

animated by various emotions. What is it which then 
passes in his mind 1 a variety of scenes undoubtedly : ob- 
jects which attract his attention, become painted from na- 
ture in his brain, if I may so speak, without being called 
forth by the signs or names attached to them ; and the pic- 
ture of the past thus being renewed, excites his fears or 
hopes. Afterwards when the child begins to speak, this 
mental panorama loses nothing of its brightness. Perhaps 
we possess it in a degree at every age, and hence the re- 
turn of images and remembrances, which sometimes as- 
sail us, in the midst of our most reflecting moments : mo- 
ments when thoughts, clothed in language, would take 
something from the brightness of these mental exhibitions. 
The language of the child, which comprises but a few 
scattering words, that are uninteresting to him, do not re- 
store the images, and consequently the effect is not retain- 
ed. New developments add to the strength of his impres- 
sions, before the habit of using language has had its influ- 
ence, and his mind, by being employed upon its signs, has 
a more calm and regular exercise. 

If it was the design of the Creator, in respect to man, 
that the immortal spirit should receive a strong impulse 
from the present life, the means of making him pursue 
the most extended course of development, was to place 
him in the lowest degree at its beginning. Hence, his 
state of privation and ignorance in infancy. But, in order 
that the motions of the soul should be voluntary, it would 
be necessary that motives to activity should be inwoven 
in its nature ; and these Providence has been careful to 
form in the new-born infant. As he has prepared sym- 
pathy for the heart, so he has furnished the intellect Avith 
the power of vivid imagination. Not having provided 
the child with innate knowledge, it is necessary to give 
him motives to acquire it. Necessity, which so power- 
fully stimulates the faculties of the man, does not possess 
27* 



318 FACTS RELATIVE TO THE STUDY 

this influence over the child, because what he needs is 
furnished for him without any eflfort of his own ; he must 
then have useless desires, and the imagination with w^hich 
he is endowed, is the fruitful source of them. Moral and 
physical action are necessary to the child's development, 
and he loves activity more than contemplation, because 
necessity gives to his actions a rational design. When 
arrived &t an age to value the result of his efforts, he wall 
be capable of reflection. 

Pre-occupied with considering what is wanting to the 
child, we forget the liberality of nature with respect to 
him. We do not observe that the order of development, 
made necessary by his ignorance, is the one most advan- 
tageous to morality, as well as to the progress of his rea- 
son. Capable of tender affections, from which the dawn- 
ing conscience has received its first impulse, the infant 
thereby submits to the influence of education, and soon 
becomes susceptible to the love of God, that source of per- 
fection in future years. Open to various sensations, he 
takes interest in a thousand objects, which, by exciting va- 
rying feelings, keep his flexible mind in action. The 
pleasure which he takes in imitating us, joined to the ad- 
miration of which he becomes more and more susceptible, 
fail not to Awaken a taste for the arts in its native sim- 
plicity. Recitation, music, painting, figures in relief, en- 
chant the child, and he is soon an artist himself By 
turns a copyist and an inventor, we see him attempt to re- 
alize, in his creations, w^hat he learns and what he imag- 
ines. A thousand burlesque or graceful fictions fill up 
his days : landscapes and edifices proceed from his feeble 
hands, and his plays are those of a young genius. 

Thus, our most brilliant attributes are announced in 
tender infancy. Grand and daring talents are so humble 
and timid at their birth, and preceded by such frivolous 
attempts, that we smile w^ith pity. The dispensation 



OF THE SOUL IN INFANCY. 319 

which renders their development certain, is nevertheless 
benevolent. It is happy for us, that imagination is indis- 
pensable to infancy. For while the course of civilization 
insures the progress of the sciences, properly so called, 
and constantly favors the exercise of analysis and reason- 
ing, a profusion of gifts apparently more useless, would 
be perhaps lost to humanity, if they had not been secured 
by the dispositions of childhood. Thus nature is always 
provident ; the passing youth of the individual guarantees 
the eternal youth of the species ; the riches of the human 
mind are preserved entire ; talents are imperishable, and 
those which enriched primitive ages, are still influencing 
minds at the present period. 

But if He who orders nature, has provided for every 
variety of mind, and an ever renewed originality in the 
human race, by the power of imagination in children, — 
He has at the same time prepared a source of general 
harmony in the sympathy which He has given them. 
While their feelings accord but little with those of society, 
of which they begin to make a part, we see those incli- 
nations languish, which receive no sympathy. Without 
losing, then, altogether the prominent traits of his original 
character, by degrees the child becomes, in other respects, 
the man of his country and his age. 



APPENDIX. 



APPENDIX. 



OBSERVATIONS UPON AN INFANT, DURING ITS FIRST YEAR. 

BY A MOTHER. 

When God gives to its mother's arms the little being 
for whom she has suffered and hoped, what mothers 
only can comprehend, what a crowd of varying emotions 
rush upon the soul ! — gratitude, for continued existence, 
and love springing up to greet the new-born spirit, which 
is hereafter to share in her weal and woe, and to be the 
blessing or curse of her future existence. A perfect child, 
or one that is born without any deformity of body, is the 
fulfilment of the mother's hopes for this first period — fancy 
can build on this foundation, the superstructure of future 
grace and beauty, genius and goodness. The mother is 
ever cheered in her severe cares, by pleasant anticipations; 
or, if experience sometimes suggest fears, yet even then, 
' She weaves the song of melancholy joy,' with which hope 
inspires her. — 

• ' No lingering hour of sorrow shall be thine ; 
No sigh that rends thy father's heart and mine.' 

A young mother, receiving her first-born to her bosom, 
experiences a strange and new pleasure, and one that is 
scarcely mingled with thoughts that tend to lessen her de- 
light. 

But very different are the emotions of a mother, who has 
seen the cherished of her bosom die, and laid in the grave, 



324 A mother's journal. 

or who has experienced melancholy changes in life in which 
the darlings of her love hav^e been partakers. 

She looks upon her new-born infant, conscious of the un- 
certainty which shrouds the future: — from her we cannot 
expect joy, undimmed by the shadows of past sorrows, 
which have been la.thfully gathered up in the store-house 
of memory. 

But every mother hopes — she hopes that her infant will 
live, to comfort and cheer her old age ; to be good, and, it 
may be, great. As far as she is enlightened, as to her ma- 
ternal duties, and the means of realizing her fond hopes for 
her child, almost every mother exerts herself to do. What 
a pledge for virtuous conduct is the character of a mother? 
though she might trifle with her own reputation, can she 
endure the thought of bequeathing infamy to her offspring? 
May the time come when every virtuous child may proudly 
say, 'Behold my mother!' and when every mother may 
joyfully say, 'Behold my child!' 

The first Three Months. 

In giving some of my observations upon my own child, 
during its infancy, I would wish it to be understood, that 
the little incidents which I may relate, are not introduced 
on account of their appearing to myself in any degree ex- 
traordinary — it is because they are ordinary, that I men- 
tion them; it is because the little history of my own infant 
is the history of every other child, that I attempt to give a 
sketch of it. 

The philosopher in his attempts to show the nature of 
the human mind, must go back to infancy, and from that 
period trace the gradual development of the senses, the in- 
tellectual faculties, and the emotions. But philosophers 
are not mothers, and therefore incapable of comprehending 
the language of infancy. Mothers are not philosophers, 
and are, therefore, incapable of analyzing and referring to 
its true principles the language which nature interprets to 
their hearts, rather than to their understandings. 

Circumstances had for several years led me to the peru- 
sal of works which treat of the human mind; — having 



THE FIRST THREE MONTHS. 325 

studied it in books, I resolved, as far as I was able, to watch 
its unfolding in the infant whom Heaven had bestowed 
upo nme, and for my own satisfaction to make some notes 
of these observations. I was confirmed in my resolution 
by meeting with Madame de Saussure's work, in which 
she urges mothers to keep such notes, for the purpose of 
throwing all possible light upon the native faculties of the 
soul, and their progressive development. 

The task is more difficult than might be apprehended, 
since the little actions of an infant seem so natural^ that 
we can scarcely persuade ourselves to think they are worth 
comment. So in the physical world, mankind are prone 
to seek an explanation of uncommon phenomena only, 
while the ordinary changes of nature, which are in them- 
selves equally wonderful, are disregarded. Comets and 
earthquakes had occupied the attention of inquirers, long 
before any one had ever thought of asking what caused the 
falling of a stone, or how Avarmth was produced by the 
burning of cold substances. An infant cries after its moth- 
er ; — this is natural, the mother believes ; but why is it nat- 
ural? It is because the child is endowed with a mental 
faculty, connecting its sensations with the object which 
gives rise to them, and which is capable of awakening emo- 
tions of affection that cluster around the being whose 
sight suggest ideas of kindness, protection, and sympathy. 
This faculty is association, which, like the attraction of 
gravitation in the planetary system, binds together the 
thoughts in a human soul. The mother ought to know 
that on the proper direction of this faculty depends the 
moral and religious character of her child, and that as soon 
as it can distinguish her from strangers, it is, by the opera- 
tion of the same principle, capable of receiving impressions 
which may prove favorable or unfavorable to its future 
well-being. It is this consideration which renders the 
mother's office so important, and an attempt to give a prop- 
er direction to her efforts, by my own observations, will, I 
hope, meet with indulgence, however imperfectly it may be 
executed. The remark is often made that all infants seem 
28 



326 A MOTHER S JOURNAL, 

much alike at first. This is far from being true ; since we 
see some puny and feeble, and others plump and vigorous. 
The little boy who was the subject of my observations, ap- 
peared at his birth healthy and promising. The first anx- 
iety that a mother feels after being certain that her child is 
free from any bodily deformity, is to ascertain whether its 
senses are perfect. I mean, whether it possess the five 
senses allotted to man, which, although the number may 
sometimes be deficient, is never exceeded. We are not 
able to determine as soon as a child opens its eyes, that 
they are formed with the power of vision, since the eye-ball 
may externally appear perfect while the retina is incapa- 
ble of forming an image of the rays refracted by the differ- 
ent lenses of the eye ; or these lenses may be deficient in 
the requisite refracting powers — and after all, a perfect 
image formed upon the retina, may not be conveyed to the 
mind, through a defect in the optic-nerve. How ought the 
mother to praise the goodness of God, whose providence 
takes cognizance of such an infinite variety of parts in the 
complicated machinery of the human frame, and sets the 
seal of perfection upon the whole ! ' And God saAV his 
work that it was good.' 

The first object on which I noticed my infant to fix his 
eyes steadily, was the black latch of a white painted door, 
which as the door swung open, was brought near to him. 
A smile animated his countenance at the same instant. I 
was touched and surprised at this incident. The first smile 
of her infant must ever cause a thrill in a mother's heart. 
Why this particular object should have attracted the at- 
tention of my child, I could not comprehend, and what 
emotion should have produced the smile, appeared still 
more incomprehensible. I thought much upon it at the 
time, and spoke of it to some members of the family. The 
contrast in color between the white door and the black 
latch, probably engaged its attention. There might have 
been a feeling of pleasure connected with this new exercise 
of his power of vision. He was then ;-bout two weeks 
old. When I say the smile which I observed was his first, 



THE FIRST THREE MONTHS. 327 

I mean the first voluntary one — for the smiling which is 
jDroduced by tickling, and playing with the mouth, is mere- 
ly spasmodic, and does not indicate emotion. 

During its first month, my child required no medicine, 
except once or twice a little magnesia was given for a 
slight affection of the bowels, and catnip tea as an anodyne, 
when it occasionally appeared restless. Once when this 
failed of quieting it, three or four drops of laudanum were 
administered ; this having been recommended in preference 
to paregoric, on the ground that the sedative properties of 
the opiate had a better effect when unaccompanied with 
articles of a heating nature. In the early part of every 
pleasant day after the child was a week old, it was carried 
into the open air, for a short time, the period of keeping it 
abroad being gradually lengthened. It was thoroughly 
washed every day with tepid water ; cold water, is, I know 
ecommended ; but it seems a harsh and dangerous experi- 
ment. 

The cap was soon laid aside. I believe physicians are 
generally agreed that it is better for a child to have its head 
uncovered, that it may receive a free access of air, which 
tends to keep the pores of the skin in a healthy state, and 
thus promotes the growth of the hair. 

The hours for sleeping, and the periods for taking nour- 
ishment were made as regular as possible ; but in the case 
of a young infant, it is not, in my opinion, practicable to 
bring its physical habits into a state of perfect regularity. 
We ought to have our rules, however, and keep to them as 
closely as may be. 

M. Jullien, in his excellent ' Plan of Practical Education,' 
recommends the following arrangement as suited to the 
physical nature of a child during the first year: — 

' Fifteen hours of sleep in the cradle or upon the bed. Six 
hours at the breast. Three hours in the open air, in the arms 
of the nurse, or lying upon a mattress, where he can amuse 
self and move about, thus gaining muscular strength by 
the free exercise of his limbs.' It is the opinion of M. 
Jullien, as well as that of other profound thinkers and close 



328 A mother's journal. 

observers, that not only is the bodily health of an infant, in 
a great degree dependent on that of the mother, but that 
with the nourishment he imbibes from her, is conveyed in- 
to his soul some portion of the moral qualities, whether 
good or evil, which predominate in her character. 

As it is my object, chiefly to remark upon the moral ten- 
dencies of the child, I shall not dwell upon the various mi- 
nute details connected with its physical education. But I 
hope the time is not far distant when some judicious moth- 
er will have the moral courage to give to the less experi- 
enced of her sex, not only directions upon this subject, but 
the result of her observations through that anxious and del- 
icate period when they so much feel the need of a maternal 
adviser.* 

But I return to the little subject of my notes. — It had 
now advanced to the age of six weeks, under favorable cir- 
cumstances, exhibiting as far as its infant character was 
developed, traits of an amiable and mild disposition, and 
an excellent constitution of body. At this period it became 
important that I should spend a few weeks in a place about 
seventy miles distant, I was aware that my child was 
quite too young to bear the fatigue of such a journey, but 
thought it might be rendered comfortable, by slow travel- 
ling in an easy carriage. For several miles during the first 
day we proceeded very comfortably, but as we advanced to 
a mountain road, which was yet new and very soft, the 
motion of the carriage became irregular on account of the 
frequent plunging of the horses into the quagmires which 
began to be abundant. To add to our trials, a heavy rain 
set in, whilst we were several miles distant from any kind 



* I have heard a work highly spoken of, which was published 
some years since under the title of the ' Maternal Physician,' but is 
now out of print. The author, the widow of the Hon. Royal Ty- 
ler, possesses t-wo important requisites for such a work, practical 
experience, and habits of close observation. It is to be hoped that 
she will feel it her duty to give to the public a second and enlarged 
edition of her valuable and much needed book. 



THE FIRST THREE MONTHS. 329 

of habitation. The carriage being light, the rain was not 
immediately annoying, but bad as it had been before, soon 
began to become much worse. There was no retreating ; 
the horses now plunged deep in the mud at every step, 
moving the carriage only by a succession of violent jerks. 
These tedious enough to stronger nerves, became very 
painful to the infant, accustomed only to the most gentle 
exercise. He screamed in agony at every step, and when 
the motion ceased for a moment, appeared exhausted with 
fatigue. I was not without the horrible fear that he might 
die in my arms before we could reach a resting-place. At 
length having been six hours in travelling as many miles, 
we reached the house upon the mountain table-land, which 
had just been erected for the purposes of an inn. I was 
conducted with my nurse and infant into a rude apartment, 
separated from the bar-room by a partition of rough boards, 
and having a floor of the same material. The bar-room 
was filled with teamsters, pedlers. and other luckless wights 
who had become members of the household for the night. 
In addition to coarse and disagreeable language, wreaths of 
tobacco-smoke, accompanied by the usual odors of such a 
place, found their way from the adjoining room, through 
the large interstices in the open partition. These openings 
also served to gratify the curiosity of the bar-room compa- 
ny, with respect to the new guests, thus honored with a seat 
in the parlor; and many a dark visage fromtime to time was 
seen peering at us with looks of mingled impudence and 
inquisitiveness. But I felt that what I had to do was to 
attend to my infant, who seemed sadly fatigued by the day's 
labor. On that occasion I thought proper to administer a 
large anodyne draught, as the best means of quieting his 
disturbed nerves. The landlady, a kind-hearted, woman, 
pitied me and the poor baby very much, and for my consola- 
tion told me ' that one woman had a young child so much 
injured by riding with it over the mountain-road, that it 
was always weakly, and did not have its senses like other 
children.' When I retired to bed with my infant, a sor- 
rowful night's lodging presented itself. My chamber was 
28* 



330 A mother's journal. 

indeed covered by a boarded roof, but so imperfectly joined 
that the rain which then poured down in torrents found va- 
rious passages through it, and my bed, which was placed in 
the driest corner of the room, was still exposed to its drip- 
pings. It was not easy to quiet my child ; for an hour or 
more it continued to scream at intervals corresponding to 
those which had elapsed between the jerkings of the car- 
riage. The reflected sensations seemed to produce upon 
him the same effect as the original ones. After we have 
been travelling for some time in a steam-boat or sailing in 
a vessel, we feel the power of this reflection of sensations, 
and all our reason can scarcely convince us we are not ac- 
tually exposed to those agitations which are thus reacting 
upon the nervous system, The human frame in this re- 
spect is like a stone, which, having rolled down a hill, still 
continues to move from the impulse it had received. 

In* spite of the dreariness of my situation, my anxiety for 
my child, and the drops of rain which now and then de- 
scendedupon my face, I at length fell into a quiet slumber; 
the child had become quiet; but even in sleep, as if memory 
was busy in recalling the troubles of the day, he would 
start and sob deeply. Towards day the storm ceased, the 
full moon shone forth, accompanied by her retinue of stars; 
and I then perceived, that although the frail tenement of 
which 1 was an inmate had an apology for a roof, it had 
not even that for a ceiling ; for looking, as I lay in my bed, 
above the blanket which was stretched at its foot to divide 
my apartment from that of other way-faring people, I per- 
ceived that the opposite side of the house was open, and I 
had the picturesque view of the towering pines, firs, and 
hemlocks, which rose above me clothing the mountain-side 
with a dark and frowning forest. Six weeks before I 
lodged in that house, as I was after^^ards informed, the 
boards of which it was put together were alive, and in the 
form of tall trees, responding to the murmurs of the forest 
winds. 

I will conclude this history of my child's first journey, 
by remarking that the remainder was performed very com- 



THE FIRST THREE MONTHS. 331 

fortably, and through the mercies of a kind Providence no 
permanent injury was sustained by the infant. But it was 
a hazardous undertaking, and necessity only can justify the 
exposure of so young a child, even to the common fatigues 
of travelling. Home is the place for infants — habit with 
them is every thing. They must have their usual sleep 
and food, at the usual periods, or they are disturbed, and 
become fretful. But when one is abroad with a child, it is 
often impossible to be regular in these things. People 
think it a compliment to wish to see the baby — the nurse 
must then wake it if asleep, and perhaps dress it for the oc- 
casion. This dressing and undressing of infants is injuri- 
ous to their tempers as well as health. Grown people often 
become less amiable in their dispositions when they meet 
Avith many vexations; — how then can we expect the little 
babe, who is worried and fretted by being thus teazed, will 
not receive a permanent bias in its temper. It is natural 
that the mother should feel a pride in showing a beautiful 
child ; and dress at no period of life sets oflf the person 
more than in childhood; but it is a foolish and wicked van- 
ity to go to such an excess in this as we often see. For 
the sake of exhibiting babies in state, many women incur 
the hazard of being the mothers of inferior men and wo- 
men. 

When my child was three months old, I returned with 
him to my home. A very great change had taken place in 
him during the last few weeks. When he rode at the age 
of six Aveeks he did not appear to notice the horses which 
dreAV the carriage ; it is probable that he had not then learn- 
ed to adopt his visual organs to objects at that distance ; he 
seemed almost unconscious of external things, except as 
they acted in immediate contact with his sentient organs, 
and then he showed a A'"ery delicate sensibility, as in the 
case of the motion of the carriage. Noav he had begun to 
feel himself a thing separate from the objects around him. 
He noticed the horses, observed the Avhip, and seemed 
pleased to see it used. He liked to go from mother to 
nurse, and from nurse to mother: he knew how to distin- 



332 A mother's journal. 

guish them. What an astonishing unfolding of faculties 
in six weeks ! greater probably than is experienced by a 
child in any subsequent period of the same length. 



The Infant at Six Months. 

Before the age of six months children begin to shrink 
from strangers — the passion of /ear has commenced its de- 
velopment. The helpless beings have learned their own 
feebleness and need of protection, and they cling to those 
of whose kindness they feel assured. They seem also to 
have their likes and dislikes, and thus show that the germs 
of intellectual taste are beginning to unfold. It is import- 
ant, when they seem afraid of any person or thing, that they 
should be made familiar with the object, that this fear may 
be conquered. A coward, whether man or woman, can 
never be useful or happy ; and therefore it is very important 
that the passion Avhich produces it should be early check- 
ed ; for if not, it grows rapidly, and when once it becomes 
rank in the soul, neither philosophy nor religion, in after- 
life, can wholly eradicate it. Tavo ladies, who one day 
called to see me, inquired for the baby. The nurse brought 
him in, and the elder lady, a hard-featured and very plain 
woman, attempted to take him. The child looking her full 
in the face, drew back, and began to cry, as if terrified. I 
took him in my arms and soothed him ; in a little while the 
other person, a young and pretty girl offered to take him ; 
the elder lady said, ' he is afraid of strangers ;' but the child, 
surveying the countenance of the young lady, stretched out 
his arms in assent to her request, and seemed quite delight- 
ed with her attention. lAvas careful to make him acquaint- 
ed with the other lady, and thus to conquer the feeling 
which he had at first manifested towards her. 

Children feel an interest in each other when very young. 
I had opportunities of witnessing several striking illustra- 
tions of this fact, before my little boy Avas five months old. 
He was at a certain time carried into a room where was a 
poor sickly babe, of nearly his own age. It lay asleep in 



THE FIRST SIX MONTHS. 333 

its mother's lap, breathing hard and irregularly, and agita- 
ted by convulsive spasms, while upon its pallid brow, hung 
a cold and clammy sweat. Its limbs had none of the round- 
ness of form, seen in a healthy child, but the skin hung 
like a loose flabby covering over them. The mother inform- 
ed me that the babe had been very sick ; it was now recov- 
ering, but she was obliged, in order to keep it quiet, to ad- 
minister large portions of laudanum; thirty and forty drops 
several times in a day, besides paregoric by the spoonful. 
I could not but feel that she was pursuing a very bad 
course. She was young and seemed inexperienced, and I 
ventured to remonstrate, by exposing the great danger to 
the mental faculties as well as to the constitution, which 
must attend such a mode of treatment. 

My own child presented a very striking contrast to the 
sickly babe. He was strong, plump and vigorous ; every 
thing about him indicated health. He had been nourished 
by the food provided by nature, and drugs of all kinds had 
been carefully avoided. I was far from ascribing entirely 
to a differpnt moHe of management, the difference in the 
appearance of the two children. 

With a sick child, the mother must yield to a physician, 
and medicines may be necessary to overcome diseases. 
The experiment of education mu?t here fail; or it must be 
suspended, until, with returning health, nature shall have 
asserted her own rights, and become powerful enough to 
act without those auxiliaries, which, though called in to 
her assistance, are very prone to usurp her place. 

My little boy looked steadily, and with a serious expres- 
sion upon the sickly baby, as it lay asleep. At length it 
awoke, though not in a natural manner as a healthy child 
awakes from sleep, but with convulsive efforts, as if nature 
had struggled to throw off the chains with which she had 
been bound by the soporific drug. When the babe was 
fully awake, and the mother had raised it up, its counte- 
nance became animated ; the ray of intelligence which 
beamed from it, showed that disease had not prevented 
the soul from pursuing her work of development even under 



334 A mother's journal. 

circumstances so unfavorable. The two babies now looked 
in each other's faces ; the healthy one no sooner saw the 
other open its eyes and begin to move, than he became an- 
imated, and with an expression of joy stretched out his 
hands to take hold of it. The other babe made no attempts 
to ascertain by the evidence of touch, whether the object 
before it was a creation of its own mind, or external to it- 
self. The improvement made in the use of its senses had 
been retarded by disease. Its look was confused like that 
of a younger infant ; it had evidently not yet learned to 
adapt its organs of sight to different distances, like healthy 
children of the same age ; and when a solid body was put 
into its hands, the muscles seemed too languid to grasp it. 
Thus the sense of touch had been little practised, for want 
of physical strength. The sense of taste must exist in an 
unnatural perverted state in a child who from its birth is 
accustomed to drugs. The one I have been describing, as 
it slept, was sucking a sugar-rag,* to which its mother had 
so long accustomed it, that it could now scarcely be dis- 
pensed with. This had helped to disorder its taste, as w^ell 
as the tone of its stomach. 

At six months old, my child had passed through the va- 
rious stages of lying in his cradle, and amusing himself in 
playing with his hands, or gazing on different objects^ 
kicking and rolling over on a mattrass, or the carpet ; and 
next, of being supported by pillows either in the cradle or 
fastened into a chair. Now he could sit alone; he had 
learned to pick up his rattle when it fell, and to amuse him- 
self with other playthings. He also took an interest in the 
movements of those about him, and the power of observa- 
tion become more strikingly manifest. He began to show 
that faculty of the mind, which, whether we designate it by 



* I give the term which I have usually heard applied, an inven- 
tion for the purpose of keeping a child still. Sugar with a little 
bread or pounded cracker, is tied up in a bit of linen, and this ' is 
kept into the child's mouth sleeping or waking; nothing could be 
worse for creating disease in the stomach and bowels of an infant. 



THE FIRST SIX MONTHS. 335 

the term desire^ with some metaphysicians, or by that of 
the will^ with others, is of little importance, since its man- 
agement is not to be affected by the name we bestow. 
We may say that children soon show a strong desire to 
gratify their will^ or they will to gratify their desire; and 
this easy substitution of the one term for the other seems 
to prove, that men have sometimes busied themselves in 
making a distinction without a difference. 

Without seeing, myself, the necessity of admitting the 
existence of a power called icill as distinct from desire, I 
shall use the former term as being more convenient, and 
more according to common parlance; though the latter cir- 
cumstance no more proves the point in dispute, than, the 
common expression, the sun rises, and the swn se^5, actual- 
ly proves that that body moves round the earth. 

The desires in a young infant are feeble ; it requires a 
tedious process of observations before it learns to associate 
with its desires the idea of the objects which serve to their 
gratification. It would cry with hunger, as it would with 
any other pain, long before it could know that food would 
relieve it. Of course it did not desire food. But when it 
has learned to connect the idea of nourishment with the 
physical want, and has also associated with this the idea 
of the being from whom he receives it, he then when hun- 
gry cries to go to his mother. As soon as the demands of 
nature are satisfied, the babe is often willing to go from her 
to others. When the child is old enough to look about, 
and enjoy the sight of natural objects, the grass, trees, ani- 
mals, and the various sounds of animated creation, he feels 
a new and strong delight; he desires or wills a continua- 
tion of this enjoyment, and when forced within doors, strug- 
gles and cries. 

The appearance of the will in children, may be dated 
from the time v>^hen observation has taught them that cer- 
tain things are desirable. This era, which some parents 
think should be marked by whipping in a sufficient degree 
to make the child passive in his desires, or in other words, 
,' to break his icill,^ is certainly an important one. It is 



336 

now necessary to begin to teach the child obedience. For 
instance, a babe at six montlis old cries when its mother 
gives it into the arms of another person ; now the child 
ought not to be whipped for this, neither ought the mother 
to take it directly back ; but it should be diverted from its 
purpose by presenting some object which will interest it. 

The first time that my little boy cried on my going from 
the house was at the age of six months. He had often seen me 
go out with my hat on, but he had never before appeared to 
connect with this the idea of absence ; this day I noticed that 
he looked attentively at my bonnet and cloak, and as soon 
as I opened the door, he began to utter mournful cries. 
I did not return, because it was necessary that he should 
become accustomed to my going out at times; but, simple 
as the affair might have seemed to an indifferent person, it 
affected my spirits, and even in the house of God, my 
thoughts would involuntarily turn upon the future trials, 
that probably awaited this little human being, from the in- 
fluence of that emotion Avhich for the first time had caused 
sorrow to his heart. 



The Child at Nine Months. 

We have now advanced to the period when the infant 
seems, inlaying aside some of its helplessness, to have as- 
sumed a character of its own. There is a vast difference 
at this age between children who have been properly man- 
aged, and those who have not. The former can amuse 
themselves a great deal ; they have learned to know that 
their desires are not always to be gratified; and as they 
have never gained any thing by crying, they seldom cry, 
except when ill, uncomfortable, or wearied by being long 
confined to one situation, which becomes absolutely pain- 
ful. Their good-nature should never be imposed on. The 
way to keep children pleasant, is to make them comfortable 
and happy ; and this can only be done, by attention to them : 
at the same time, too much attention spoils all, by giving the 
child an idea that every thing must give way to his desires. 



THE CHILD AT NINE MONTHS. 337 

Soon after the infant is able to sit alone, he begins to 
make some attempts to move — after a while it pulls itself 
up by a chair, and at length is able to stand, by grasping 
some support with the hands. 

At eight months old, my child had become strong enough 
to bear his weight in this manner. While I was about 
procuring a standing-stool to favor this new attempt of na- 
ture, it happened that a pine box of a foot and a half square 
was brought into the nursery ; and it occurred to me that 
this might answer my purpose, as well as an article 
made for the occasion. After putting a bit of carpet over 
the bottom, the little boy was placed in it. He was highly 
pleased with his promotion, and soon learned to move his 
position from one side of the box to another. When tired 
with standing, he sat down and amused himself with play- 
things ; sometimes he was indulged with an apple of which 
he was very fond, and Avhich often prevented the necessity 
of giving aperient medicines. There was some danger that 
in his fondness for hon bons, and the number of his kind 
friends, he would acquire a habit of gormandizing, espe- 
cially as in the progress of dentit'on, he was continually 
seeking for something to bite. I endeavored to prevent, as 
far as possible, too much indulgence in eatables — cake, 
unless plain, dough-nuts or gingerbread, I did not permit 
him to have ; a crust of bread is proba )i'; better than either. 
A piece of ivory, silver, or some hard substance, should be 
given to children when teething. The wooden box, which 
did so good service at first, was laid aside within a few 
weeks, as a catastrophe, which had been feared, at length 
actually took place. This was the turning o : of the box 
by the little Sampson within, who had, for some time, been 
exercising himself in throwing his weight suddenly on one 
side, and at length succeeded in the experiment. 

We have now arrived to the creeping age. I had thought 
I should not suffer him to learn to creep ; but after some 
conversation with physicians, and consulting my own rea- 
son concluded to let nature have her own way, and to run 
the risk of having the child get his clothes soiled for the 
29 



338 A mother's journal. 

advantage of giving a more expanded chest, a stronger back, 
and finer-shaped shoulders. 

Before he began to creep, he was for some months al- 
lowed to pass considerable time in the kitchen. The nurs- 
ery, after a few of the first months, became a dull place to 
him ; he seemed to have taken a dislike to it. The kitch- 
en was more lively, and he found much amusement in 
watching the different operations, of pounding, grinding, 
chopping, running to and fro, and all the bustle of culinary 
operations — all seemed to him a sort of pantomime got up 
for his amusement ; in which opinion he was strengthened 
by the glances of the domestics, who failed not frequently 
to smile upon their little favorite. Yet, unless a child is 
carefully watched, a kitchen is an unsafe place, and in a 
large family, where there are other children to amuse the 
baby, it can have variety enough elsewhere. Some moth- 
ers are surprised that those whose circumstances oblige 
them to labor, are able to do so much besides taking care of 
their young children — the secret is, that the Avoman who 
labors, amuses her child by her various household occupa- 
tions, Avhich she manages to perform as much as possible, 
within its sight — that is, she diverts her child with her 
work, while the nurse or mother who spends all her time 
in tending the baby, works to divert it. And the evil here 
is not only the loss of time in the ^pat-a-cake,^ 'ride-the- 
Jack-horse,' ' high-diddle-diddle,' &c. of the nursery ; but the 
child becomes selfish and imperious, by seeing that he is 
always an object of attention. 

I took much paias to teach my child patience and self- 
denial, and never allowed him to be indulged because he 
cried for a thing. The effect of this management was ap- 
parent in the readiness with which he yielded to the wishes 
of others, and the ease with which he accommodated him- 
self to circumstances. I preferred that he should be ac- 
customed to be taken care of occasionally by different per- 
sons, in order to inure him to change. There should, how- 
ever, be one person who feels a constant care over a young 
child, in order that the state of its health and physical hab- 



THE CHILD AT NINE MONTHS. 339 

its may be observed and regulated ; this should be the 
mother, or a faithful nurse. 

I was much pleased to study the effectsof different coun- 
tenances upon the mind of my child. With grave and 
serious people he looked serious ; with children he was 
playful; and with two littLe girls who occasionally came to 
see him, he seemed always delighted. 

He seemed much perplexed when his aunt, between 
whom and his mother there is said to exist a strong resem- 
blance, came on a visit. When she first took him in her 
arms he looked very earnestly at her, and then at me. He 
had been accustomed to see two images of me, when I had 
stood with him before the glass ; but this was a different 
affair; h-e saw it was no illusion, for he could touch it, and 
he heard it speak ; he perceived this without being able to 
comprehend the matter ; sometimes he looked grave, and 
then laughed as if at his own perplexity. But he soon 
fixed upon some distinguishing marks in our dresses or 
tones of voice, by which he recognized the real mother. 
Here were the faculties of comparison and abstraction ex- 
hibited. 

Strong excitements have an unfavorable effect upon the 
nerves of young children. We know this to be the case 
with ourselves, but are apt to forget that things which 
are common to us, may be new and striking to them. My 
child was on a certain evening carried into a large room 
brilliantly lighted, and filled with company., He gazed 
around with an expression of admiration and delight not 
unmixed with perplexity ; the latter, however, soon vanish- 
ed, and he laughed and shouted with great glee ; and as he 
saw that he was observed, exerted himself still farther to 
be amusing. He was then carried into a room where was 
music and dancing ; this was entirely new, and he was agi- 
tated with a variety of emotions ; fear, wonder, admiration 
and joy seemed to prevail by turns. As the scene became 
familiar, he again enjoyed it without any mixture of unpleas- 
ant feelings. 

But the effect of these excitements was apparent, when 



340 A MOTHER'S JOURNAL. 

he was taken to his hed-room ; his face was flushed, as in a 
fever, his nervous system disturbed, and his sleep was in- 
terrupted by screams. He had witnessed scenes as new 
and almost as strange, as to us would be the apparition of 
a dance of fairies by moonlight. His imagination had 
made a powerful effort to grasp and comprehend what his 
senses had discovered. He knew not who or what were 
the beings and the sounds which had thus appeared in pla- 
ces, usually so quiet; and the strange motions of thesebe- 
ings, must also have greatly increased the wonder. 

The Child from Nine to Twelve Months. 

Every thing in this world is progressive — the infant 
does not in a day become a ^nan, nor does vigorous man- 
hood sink at once into old age. The progress of decay is, 
however, in most cases more rapid than that of growth. 

The infant cannot be seen to have altered from one day 
to another, though from week to week we think we can 
see a progression. Months present striking differences, 
and three months often seem to show him almost a new 
being. 

It was during the period respecting which I am now to 
make some observations, that I begun to have the child 
occasionally present at family prayers. At first, as the 
different members of the family entered the room and took 
their seats, he looked with an eye of curiosity, especially 
at his old friends the domestics, whom he was not accus- 
tomed to see seated in the places they now occupied. Each 
person in turn read portions of the Scripture, and the baby 
soon began an imitation of the reading. This scene, how- 
ever, soon became familiar and tiresome, especially as no 
one appeared to notice his performance. When the singing 
commenced, he was again interested, and, modulating his 
voice to the best of his ability, he sung too — looking grave, 
as he saw others did. During the prayer which followed, 
he again changed his tones of voice, in imitation of the 
sound he heard. When he grew weary of confinement, by 



THE CHILD FROM NINE TO TWELVE MONTHS. 341 

giving him something to hold in his hand, he was quiet 
until the close of the exercises. The presence of the baby, 
at first, might have diverted in some measure the attention 
of the younger members of the family, but it soon became 
familiar, and occasioned no disturbance. 

I thought it important that the child should thus, from in- 
fancy, become accustomed to religious exercises. He did 
not indeed comprehend the import of the scene, the grave 
demeanor, the solemn music, and the subdued accents of 
prayer ; but they made their impression upon his mind as 
well as his senses. 

Outward expressions act upon the soul, as the affections 
of the soul produce external acts, and therefore it is that 
the tones, gestures, and expressions of countenance with 
which a child is conversant, have an important influence 
in the modification of its character. Accustomed to wit- 
ness well-conducted family devotion, a feeling of awe 
and solemnity will become familiar, and when he is 
old enough to render an explanation proper, the idea of an 
invisible Creator a,nd Benefactor, who is the object of this 
worship, will appear a natural and reasonable solution of 
the inquiry which will rise in his mind. 

Curiosity begins to show itself very active in the child 
of ten months. My little boy sat by my side one day, play- 
ing with a box of wafers. He had already learned by ob- 
servation, and memory recalled the fact, that there were 
sometimes things contained within such articles ; he shook 
the box, and holding it to his ear listened to the sound as if 
to inform himself whether he might expect 'to find any 
thing within. Having satisfied himself on this point, he 
next went to work with great resolution to open the box, 
and at length succeeded in pulling out the bottom. His 
efforts were rewarded by a sight which made him utter 
cries of joy. Hundreds of bright round pieces fell about in 
glorious confusion. He had conquered a difficulty and had 
made a discovery. No botanist on finding a new plant, 
mineralogist at the sight of a rare specimen, or mathema- 
tician on the solution of a difficult problem, could feel 
29* 



342 A mother's journal, 

greater pleasure than was now apparent in this little minia- 
ture man, at the sight of the broken box and scattered v/a- 
fers. The same curiosity or love of knowledge, leads us 
on from one difficulty to another in science ; and should we 
ever reach a point beyond which there could be no discov- 
eries, like Alexander, we should weep that there was noth- 
ing more to be conquered. 

I was interested in observing the child's perplexity with 
respect to the effects of heat. In one of my apartments was 
a stove with doors, which had brass handles. He had by 
painful experience learned enough of the properties of fire 
to become cautious about exposing himself to it ; and he 
knew that the iron stove was hot when there was fire with- 
in — but he had, by a series of observations, proved also that 
the brass handles and balls did not become hot like the 
iron. When there was not a large fire he could handle them 
with impunity ; though even then he not unfrequently burnt 
his fingers in suffering them to venture upon the confines of 
danger. But he seldom cried when this happened during 
the course of his experiments upon the capacity of metals 
for caloric ; he seemed to understand that it was at his own 
risk. Sometimes the stove contained fire enough to heat 
the handles of the door, without heating the balls; this was 
a matter of surprise to our young philosopher. And then 
again when the doors of the stove were open the iron part 
was cold. Before venturing to touch this, he would care- 
fully examine the brass handles, and if they were cold, he 
at first lightly touched the other part, until gaining confi- 
dence, he seemed to feel great delight in taking firm hold 
of the formidable iron. I suffered him to make these trials 
even at the expense of a trifling hurt ; (I always watched 
that it should be nothing more,) I wanted he should learn 
by his ov/n experience to be careful ; and yet even experi- 
ence he found to be fallacious, since the metal that was hot 
yesterday was cold to-day. 

Optics is a favorite study of little children, and its vari- 
ous phenomena excite in them much wonder. As soon as 
^ child has learned to distinguish persons distinctly, he 



THE CHILD FROM NINE TO TWELVE MONTHS. 343 

will notice his own features in a mirror; but at first he does 
not think of it as connected with himself. He looks at it 
as he would at another child, he laughs, and the image 
laughs ; he stretches out his hands, and the image does the 
same — at length he begins to comprehend the fact that his 
own motions are reflected; and he gesticulates as if for the 
purpose of seeing the effect in the mirror. From the image 
of his mother when she holds hijii before the glass, he turns 
to look at her person, thus showing that he knows the one 
to be an illusion. The polished andirons, reflecting on ev- 
ery side a miniature picture of himself, as he stands before 
them, afford an interesting subject for speculation; as he 
advances, the image becomes larger ; he holds out his hand 
near the convex surface, and it looks larger than his whole 
body at a little distance. And when an andiron consists 
of parts in which the continuity of the convex surface is 
broken, he sees the images multiplied. Let any person ob- 
serve an intelligent child of ten months, or a year old, and 
they will be struck with the extent of their observations, 
and apparent interest in things, which many grown per- 
sons never think of inquiring into, because they are accus- 
tomed to them. Shadows are among the optical phenom- 
ena which engage the attention of children. They ought 
to be made to understand that they are mere illusions. 
This can easily be done by showing them that their shad- 
ow on the wall is made by th:'mselves; that when they 
raise their hands, it produces a correspondent motion in 
the shadow, and when they run, the shadow runs. If a 
child is amused with seeing the rabbit on the wall open 
and shut its mouth, dart forward and then back, he should 
not be left with the impression that there was some real 
and mysterious being who thus appeared and disappeared ; 
but by directing his attention to the hand and the motion 
of the fingers, he is let into the secret, and ready to laugh 
at the joke, instead of being left in that excited state of 
mind which makes him feel terrified at every unusual sight 
or sound. 

Animals are regarded by very young children with great 
interest. The cat, the most domestic of all animals, 



344 A mother's journal. 

much as she has been traduced for the purpose of enhanc- 
ing the value of her persecuting enemy, the dog, is usu- 
ally kind to the baby. She suffers it to pull her by the 
ears, and the tail, and to pinch andchoakher, with little re- 
sistance. There is something wonderful in this ; for let 
another offer but a small portion of the indignity which 
puss will patiently receive from a child, she shows at once 
her resentment. But she may often be seen to go volunta- 
rily and lay herself down by the side of her little torment- 
or, and to begin her gentle purring, as if to show her own 
good will to them. The sight of her always seems to ex- 
cite pleasant feelings in the child, (for his injuries are not 
done with malice prepense,) and tat, tat, is among the first 
accents he is heard to utter. Some kittens being brought 
to my little boy, he contemplated them with much interest, 
but Avoe to the luckless creatures when they fell within the 
grasp of the little Hercules. Much as the child enjoyed 
his rough play with the kittens, I thought it wrong to in- 
dulge him in it, not only from pity to the animals, but be- 
cause there was danger that he might acquire a habit of 
cruelty, even before he was capable of comprehending its 
nature. 

One day, when the little boy Avas about eleven months 
old, I took him into a yard where a flock of turkeys were 
feeding. He eyed them with much satisfaction, until the 
cock-turkey, attracted by the child's scarlet frock came 
strutting up towards him, rustling his feathers with great 
force, and crying, gobble, gobble, as if in defiance. The 
little boy beheld the monster with mingled terror and admi- 
ration, drcAv himself closer to me, and looked in my face 
apparently to discover how I was affected at the strange 
sight. When I had driven Mr. Gobbler back, and the child 
saw that he was afraid to advance, he gathered courage 
and was disposed to pursue him. The recollection of this 
event was very lively in his mind for some time after, and 
when the turkey's gobble was repeated, the whole scene 
seemed to rise before him. It was to him, no doubt, the re- 
membrance of a great victory. 



THE CHILD FROM NINE TO TWELVE MONTHS. 345 

Before eleven months, he began to show himself pleased 
with pictures, would point to small figures of men and ani- 
mals, and turn over the leaves of a book as if to search for 
them. For the purpose of seeing how far he could com- 
prehend, I made with a pen and ink, upon a piece of 
white paper, a circle of about an inch in diameter, and 
placed two dots for the eyes, a line for the nose, and anoth- 
er large one for the mouth. He had watched me while 
the delineation was going on, and when it was finished, 
looking at the grotesque figure, he laughed with great mer- 
riment, pointed to the spots for eyes, and the line for the 
mouth, as if he fully understood w-hat they were intended 
to represent. According to an idea of Madame de Saus- 
sure,his imagination supplied what was wanting in the pic- 
ture, and this exercise made the rude sketch more agreeable 
to him than the most perfect imitation. 

The expression of the emotions of young children, when 
first viewing the grand scenery of nature, affords a rich 
treat to the penetrating observer. At eight months old, my 
child, on being carried to the door during a fall of snow, 
contemplated the scene with an appearance of deep atten- 
tion. He had learned enough of the use of his eyes to form 
some conception of the expanse before him, and to perceive 
how different it was from the narrow confines of the apart- 
ments of the house. The falling snow, with its brilliant 
whiteness, and easy downward motion was strange and 
beautiful ; and when he felt it lighting upon his face and 
hands, he held up his open mouth, as if he would test its 
nature by a third sense. 

A few weeks after this, he was taken, on a bright winter's 
day, to ride in a sleigh. The sleigh-bells, the horses, the 
companions of his ride, the trees and shrubs loaded with 
their brilliant icy gems, the houses, and the people Avhom 
we passed, all by turns received his attention. If he could 
have described what he saw, as it appeared to him, and the 
various emotions caused by these objects, the description 
would have added a new page in the philosophy of mind. 
How often the beauties of nature are unheeded by man, 



346 A mother's journal. 

who, musing on past ills, brooding over the possible calam- 
ities of the future, building castles in the air, or wrapped up 
in his own self-love and self-importance, forgets to look 
abroad, or looks with a vacant stare. His outward senses 
are sealed, while a fermenting process may be going on in 
the passions within. But if, with a clear conscience, a love 
of nature, and a quick sense of the beautiful and sublime, 
we do contemplate the glorious objects so profusely scat- 
tered around us by a bountiful Creator, with the interesting 
changes which are constantly varying the aspect of these 
objects, still our emotions have become deadened by habit. 
We do not admire what is familiar to us, and therefore it 
is, that we must be ever ignorant of the true native sympa- 
thy between our own hearts and the external world. 

The first fine day of spring, I carried my little boy into 
the open air. His senses were all awake, and when he 
felt the warm sun-shine, and saw the brightness which 
glowed in all directions around him, he was glad. As Mrs. 
Barbauld says, 'he was glad to be alive.' He looked up- 
wards to the tall trees, and the glorious sun whose morn- 
ing beams played among their branches ; he surveyed the 
arched canopy of heaven, and then his ear caught the song 
of a bird who was building her nest on a spray at a little 
distance. Was there not poetry to his soul in all this? 
But before the child has acquired language in which to con- 
vey his impressions to the minds of others, these impres- 
sions have lost much of their vividness. 

Every year by rendering us more familiar with nature, 
robs it of something of its poetry. Even in youth, we have 
lost much of the liveliness of the feeling of childhood ; raa- 
turer years rob us of the enthusiasm of youth; and in old 
age, the emotions that once constituted the charms of exist- 
ence, are scarcely remembered. But then our Maker de- 
signs that to these, shall succeed a new set of feelings, not 
indeed suggested by aught that ' eye hath seen, or ear 
heard,' but founded upon those invisible realities which are 
revealed by faith, to the soul of the Christian. 

In the infant we have been observing the physical devel? 
opment in some respects had been more rapid ihan ordina- 



THE CHILD FROM NINE TO TWELVE MONTHS. 347 

ry. Before eleven months it had learned to walk. This is 
younger than is desirable, since a child is at this age more 
liable to fall, than when it has more judgment to balance 
itself. His attempts at language were imperfect, and his 
vocabulary consisted of a few words, and an imitation of 
the cries of some animals. The senses had served their 
'apprenticeship' so far very faithfully. No child could ar- 
rive to this period with less of indisposition ; yet it had 
been left to grow strong and hardy, unaccustomed to the 
excessive tenderness which is often deemed necessary to 
the preservation of an infant's life. During its first winter, 
which was a severe one, even for a northern climate, it 
scarcely had the appearance of a cold, though it was much 
of the time in an apartment where doors were being open- 
ed and shut very frequently, and which at the best was not 
a warm one. When I went from my own small and heat- 
ed room into this, I often found the cold uncomfortable, and 
remonstrated with the nurse for suffering the child to re- 
main in it. But I was at length convinced that he owed 
his fine health and exemption from colds to this habitual 
exposure to fresh air, and variation of temperature. I would 
remark, however, that the child's dress was warm, consist- 
ing of a pinning blanket, petticoat, and frock with long 
sleeves, all of flannel. 

In order to sum up my observations upon the moral hab- 
its of children, I would remark, 

1st. That education has great influence upon the emo- 
tions. Excessive indulgence renders children selfish and 
obstinate. By always regarding their slightest cries, we 
suffer them to acquire a domineering disposition, and fix in 
their hearts the love of power and tyranny. Peevishness 
may be produced by trifling with their feelings or teazing 
them ; and sullenness may arise from too much sternness 
and severity. A mild, yet decided course may in general 
be expected to produce the happiest effect upon the dispo- 
sition. 

2d. Education gives an early bias to the moral princi- 
ples, of which truth is the corner-stone. A child that is 
deceived, learns to deceive in its turn ; and from this dispo- 



348 A mother's journal. 

sition originates the vice of lying. When you hold out 
something to a child to induce him to attempt to walk, and 
then withhold it from him, you sow in his mind the seed 
from whence will spring lies. 

3d. The religious education of a child^ may be begun 
when he is capable of distinguishing the look, tones, and 
postures of devotion from those which appear in the ordi- 
nary affairs of business or amusement. A child of a year 
old accustomed to hearing grace at table, will learn to sit 
quietly and with a serious look until this duty is perform- 
ed, although hungry for his dinner.* I do not say that he 
will always do this; — there are times with children, as 
with grown people, when they are irritable and cannot bear 
restraint with a good grace. 

All the intellectual faculties which distinguish man are 
seen in an active child of a year old. Perception is ever 
on the alert with him ; if he hear the mewing of the cat. 
he looks after her that he may jserceiue her; if he hear a 
sound, he seeks to ascertain the cause of it. Perception 
has through the medium of sensation taught him a vast 
number of facts ; and he is ever watching to gain new in- 
formation by the same means. Memory recalls to him the 
objects of his perceptions, aided by his reflections. He 
weeps to see his mother go out with her bonnet on. This 
is because he remembers that she has been out before, and 
that he is happier when she is with him. Ask him" where 
is papa, and he looks towards the place v^^hich he is accus- 
tom.ed to see him occupy. The faculty of association has 
connected the appellation, papa, with the person, and this 
again is connected with the idea of place. Reason has 
taught him to avoid the hot stove ; curiosity is constantly 
leading him to new observations, and imagination shows 
itself in his interest in pictures and images. 

* I have seen one who wanted a few days of a year, cover his face 
with his hands, and remain in a fixed position at table, while pis 
father invoked a blessing. He had, while thus young, learned to 
expect this observance and to look up to his father, as soon as the 
family were seated at table, as if waiting for him to commence. 

[Ed.] 



W 15 RA 



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ERRATA. 

The reader is requested to make the following corrections : — Page 29, in the 
4th line of the note, fornozo read how. Page 24, 2d line of the note, for are read is. 
PagedB^ for Socrates Tea.d Sophocles, and for Phedore read Phcedra. Page 99, 2d 
paragraph, 7th line, read deprivesthe bad &c., omitting in. Page 143, near the mid- 
dle of the page, for and the confusion, read with, &c. Page 324, 6th line, for gath- 
ered read garnered. 

In the following instances, the sign E<f. is incorrectly added to the author's notes. 
See pages 77, 78, 123, 130, 167, 192, 193, 227, 262. The note, page 233, is the 
author's, except the last sentence. In the note, page 298, the first two sentences 
are by the author, the remaining part, commencing with it is for the reason, is by 
the editors. 



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